Wicked Hearts(Bad Version)
by vorvol
Summary: This story has been rewritten because it was one of my first stories and it was just ugh. Link on the rewritten one on my profile. Will delete in a month.
1. The Buttock Illusion

**One word: What. The. Hell.**

**I reread this after I wrote chapter 27 and I just omitted a few scenes that were just wrong.**

**I suppose it's too late to rewrite the whole first three chapters to hide how cringeworthy they are. Well, if you're a new reader, you can skip the first two or three. Like, please. I didn't plan on actually having a plot until chapter 5-ish, and that's why these first ones are more like "a day in the life of-" stories.**

**Oh, well. Just so you know, this takes place a few months after Sera joins the Inquisition and has buddied up with the Inquisitor. Why not start the story when they first meet? You'll have to find out later ;)**

* * *

The faint smell of the tavern's mediocre food and drinks is a welcome change from the scent of horses from days on the road with shitty matresses and even shittier heat insulation. Swigging the first taste of alcohol she's had in much too long, Sera carefully eyes Adaar's horns, it's base protruding from the front of her head, arcing back, decorated with clasps of iron before curving upwards into sharp points. "So, this is it, huh?"

Adaar smirks and gestures to the bartender for another drink. "I hope I'm not disappointing you, Sera. It would be a shame if I ruined those fantasies of yours, ones you probably got from reading too many Tal-Vashoth romance novels."

"First, I don't read no shitty romance novels. And disappoint? Nah, I mean..." For a split second, a predatory smile surfaces on the elf's lips. "Woof. You've even got the sharp horns and white hair."

"Yep, you've been reading shitty Tal-Vashoth romance novels." Adaar dismissively waves her hand, creating a tube of ice that drops into Sera's drink. "Noticed you sweating. Thought you'd like some ice."

"Sweet."

"You're a weird elf, you know that?"

Sera laughs and downs the rest of the alcohol in her glass. "You think? Maybe I should walk around barefoot and whine more."

She looks around exaggeratedly like an actress in an Orlesian spy play. "Heh, don't let Solas hear you say that. But really, I knew being big and gray and scarred with big horns would get me a rep in the mercenary business, but this?" Adaar comically gestures towards herself and grins. "This is the first time a girl's been impressed by all this."

Sera giggles and takes a drink. "Hey, I can't help liking tall ladies. Never thought I'd say this about a mage, though."

Adaar scoffs playfully. "You wound me, Sera. Magic's not all about sacrificing slaves and raising dead people to life. I noticed how your face turned white as a sheet during that battle with a mage in the Hinterlands."

"Well, excuse me for being afraid of something I've been told to fear my whole life, yeah?" Sera crosses her arms in mock defiance.  
A metaphorical light bulb lights up inside the qunari's head and she stands up and offers Sera her hand. "Come with me then." She beckons, with a glint of trouble in her eyes.

Sera takes the hand that seems giant compared to her's and lets the taller woman help her up. "What, you're going to take me on a romantic stroll where you do impressive magic shit to show me the wonders of magic or something? Who's been reading shitty novels now?"

"Close enough. And the drinks are on me," Adaar says, reaching for a few pieces of gold in her pocket before she sets it by the counter. "Turns out the breeches you stole did make some good money after all."

* * *

"So, tell me why we're hiding in a tent and watching-"

"Shhhh," Adaar clasps her hand on Sera's mouth. "Just watch."

Through a slit in one of the soldiers' tents, the two silently watch Cassandra obliterate training dummy after training dummy. The Seeker is breathing harder than she should be. Her strikes don't hit as hard as they usually do. After a few seconds of catching her breath, Cassandra pulls her head back in preparation of what seems like a big, nasty sneeze.

The corners of Adaar's lips turn upwards. "Watch."

And Sera did watch as Cassandra let out a sneeze so fierce that the muscular woman jumps from the force. A rush of flame pushes from her lips and onto the training dummy. Cassandra lets out a surprised noise as the dummy catches before she kicks the dummy down and begins to frantically curse under her breath, rolling the dummy on the snow.

The elf and qunari are both equally grateful for the clamor the soldiers are making while they're practicing, or else their stifled laughs and snorts would have undoubtedly alerted the Seeker of their presence. It took only a few seconds before Cullen rushes towards the Seeker, who's panting above a charred dummy with diminishing embers.

"Cassandra, I smelled smoke! What happened?"

Cassandra turns towards Cullen, hair missed and looking more confused than neither Adaar nor Sera has ever seen. "I...I'm not sure."

"Was that dummy on-"

Cassandra's head pulls back again, and it takes every ounce of willpower for Adaar to bite her lips and stay quiet as she prepares for another burst of fire while Sera's using the mage's shoulder to muffle her cackles. Another forceful sneeze rips through and yet another burst of fire rushes from the short haired woman's lips to a spot dangerously close to Cullen's greaves.

"Cassandra, what the f-"

* * *

Haven's workers stare incredulously at the pair as they lean on each other for support, laughing so hard that their cheeks are turning red.

"I always thought she was scary, just like a high dragon, but that was-" Sera coughs and laughs some more into Adaar's shoulder.

Adaar wipes a tear from her eyes and takes a deep breath. It takes a few tries for her words to sound coherent. "Save it for later, the show isn't over. See Solas there? Find a place to hide."

"Alright, c'mere, you." Sera pulls the mage behind a stone wall that the qunari finds difficult to hide behind, due to her size. The elf picks up a pebble from the ground and peeks from behind her cover, spying Solas as he sits in his usual spot, reading a thick tome. She throws the pebble somewhere behind the bald mage.

Solas puts his book down and looks around. "Hello?" He asks, turning his head.

"Go go go." Sera grabs Adaar's hand and, with difficulty, pulls the qunari around the stone wall and into a ridiculously small wooden tool shed, all before Solas turns around and get back to his book.

The shed is small and the two are pressed together uncomfortably. Particles of dust swirl thickly, visible only thanks to the ray of light from a gap in the door. Adaar ignores the dust and whatever it is that's pushing uncomfortably against her ass, instead cockily looking down at the girl pressed directly to her chest. "A tool shed? How cliche."

Sera widens her eyes, feigning innocence. "How so, lady Herald?"

Adaar leans down and places her lips right on the elf's pointed ears. It's dark, but she swears she sees the tips of Sera's ears turn red with the lack of proximity between their bodies. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." She playfully whispers.

The elf, unwilling to be beaten so easily, leans into the qunari's ear and whispers back, "You'll have to buy me dinner first."  
Adaar opens her mouth to utter a harmless flirt, then she hears the sound of Cassandra's voice. She opens the shed's door slightly for her and Sera to peek outside with a small creak.

"I've heard that the talent for magic can blossom late, but breathing fire is very... unusual, to say the least." Solas mutters, rubbing his chin as he turns around to think.

Cassandra looks at him with almost pleading eyes. "Please, Solas, I-"

Solas turns around, and Cassandra's words are stuck in her throat. Sera is similarly too stunned for words. Solas' shiny bald head is a butt. A shiny, pale, round butt with freckles sprinkled on both it's ass cheeks. Cassandra stares in shock and rubs her eyes and her jaw is dropped like a moronic caveman.

Sera is too startled for words. In fact, she follows Cassandra's lead and rubs her eyes a few times for good measure before she drops into a silent laughter. "Balls, how'd you do that!?"

"Illusion magic is good for many, many things." Adaar says, raising her hands dramatically to emulate a magician who's successfully managed to do a difficult trick. And then it struck her. A tingle in her nose, a speck of dust in her nostrils, and the qunari pulls back her head and throws her head forward, massive horns and all, in an epic sneeze that seemed to shake the shed.

Sera and Adaar look at each other silently. A few seconds pass before the archer manages the courage to talk. "You don't think she heard you, right?"

They found the answer instantly when the shed door opens and they're met with a sharp pair of eyes and a sharper pair of cheekbones. "What are you doing here?"

"Shit."


	2. Skitter Skitter, Hairy Eyeball

Note that this takes place after a time skip. Enjoy and don't forget to RnR :)

**HOLY SHIT. I had to rewrite this because it was SO BAD and just cringeworthy. Damn. (I promise this story has a plot. Believe me, twenty or so chapters in the story, and you'll be gaping from the amazing plot twists by yours truly.)**

* * *

The four women collectively sigh when Cassandra opens the door and they find that their room isn't as bad as they thought it would be. It was dim and small, but the two beds seemed cozy enough. It smells slightly musky, but it's a bargain given the ridiculously low price they had to pay for their rooms. Vivienne had insisted on getting better rooms, reasoning that four women in a small hotel room is outrageous enough to be called a scandal.

Of course, then the innkeeper informed them that all the other rooms had been taken.

A bow clatters on the inn room's old wooden floor. "Eugh," Sera scrunches up her face and pulls out a gunk of green _something_ from her hair, the first one out of the many more all over herself. "Why's it always gotta be demons, huh? Why can't it be bandits or some rich tit asshole?" She wipes down her front and moans. "Shite, I've even got them in _places_."

Cassandra looks at her, trying to hide her amusement at the green goo covering the elf from head to toe. "I could teach you some anti-magic techniques, if you'd like, Sera."

"Or you can just stand in front of me next time," Sera replies, fetching her towel from her pack. "And no offense, but I don't think I'm the shield and sword type."

"That, I can do." Cassandra chuckles.

Sera tip toes towards the bathroom with a towel over her shoulder and leaving a small trail of green goo behind. "I'm taking the bath first!"

The bathroom door shuts and Vivienne disapprovingly glares at the trail on the floor. "I hope she'll have the decency to clean that up, although I high doubt that will ever happen."

Adaar gives the Orlesian mage a glance before she flips to the next page of Tale Of The Champion. "Hmm," she simply responds.

"People are starting to talk, my dear, I hope you've noticed."

The qunari's brow furrows uncomfortably. "Is this about the tool shed incident?" Adaar half-heartedly says, her fingers tracing the page where Hawke valiantly hurls spell after spell at the hulking brute that was the Arishok, all to save the city of Kirkwall and her pirate lover.

Cassandra makes a disgusted noise at the memory.

Adaar groans, places a bookmark on her book, and closes it. "Andraste, Cassandra, I said I was sorry."

"The point is," Vivienne cuts off before a digression can interrupt her. "I honestly wonder why you, a clever and charismatic agent of this Inquisition, choose to associate with such a crass and uneducated individual."

Adaar sighs. She's too tired for this. Dealing with this Alexius, fighting demons and meeting this curious Dorian person is enough for a day, she thinks. Having grilled for her choice of company is not in her to-do list.

Vivienne sympathetically smiles at her fellow mage. She sits down next to the qunari and pats the taller woman's shoulder. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time, Adaar, but I've seen these things happen in the Game. Trust me when I say our enemies can use this information against you, should they find out. I advise you to not let this get out of hand."

"I appreciate it, Vivienne." Adaar smiles back awkwardly and murmurs, "I'll keep it in mind, although there's nothing going on between us. I'm not even warming her bed yet."

"Adaar!" Cassandra exclaims, red faced.

The qunari smirks and reaches for her copy of Tale of the Champion. "Ah, so that's what it takes to make our stoic Seeker's demeanor crumble?" Adaar flips to a random page in the book and clears her voice. "Isabela softly marks her Champion's smooth neck, the Fereldan's whimpers urging her to go further and trail her nimble fingers-"

"Adaar!" Cassandra interrupts, appalled. The Nevarran tries to salvage her pride, scowling to hide her flushed cheeks. "You made that up, I read the book and there was no such scene in it!"

"Well, Cassandra," Adaar stands up and slowly approaches the warrior with a sly smile. When her face is just inches away from the Seeker's, the mage slowly lifts up the book to Cassandra's face. "It's the extended version."

Cassandra's eyes widen and her jaw drops. Indeed, on the cover was written 'EXTENDED VERSION' in fine ink. "There's an extended version? I didn't know there was an extended version." She tries to grab the book, but the qunari holds the book just out of her reach.

"Oh no, you can't do that, I'm not done reading." Adaar teases.

"Where did you get that?!"

"From the author himself, of course." Adaar plops back down on her head and begins reading. "I'm sure you can get one too, if you-"

The bathroom door opens. Adaar turns her head, and the book in her hand falls with a thud on the old wooden floor. Clouds of steam escape the bathroom, and Sera's standing right there with nothing but a towel wrapped around her slim body. The first thing Adaar notices is that _damn_, the towel is small. It covers the archer from just over breasts to just below her ass and _hell_, the qunari doesn't think she'll be able to handle it if it was any shorter. She barely even handling it now. Sera's been called everything from 'child' and 'bony-assed twit' to 'flat-chested pisshat' for her pranks and more than occasional rudeness, but Adaar can plainly see those names are definitely not based on fact. She can see covered mounds of flesh underneath that damn towel and they're not very large, but she definitely likes what she sees.

Adaar's eyes trace the contours of the archer's defined shoulder and arm muscles that glint with slight moisture, developed through years and years of expert marksmanship and tavern scuffles. Then Sera bends down to take her clothes from her pack. The towel, already short to begin with, rides higher and higher up her creamy thighs and Adaar finds her mouth going dry.

She shakes her head when she realizes she's staring like a creep, but not before Sera turns around and does that mischievous laugh of hers. "Close your mouth, lady Herald. Andraste's hairy eyeball is watching. No impure thoughts!"

"It's not. A hairy eyeball." Cassandra says for the fifth time that month, gesturing to the symbol on her armor. "It's fire."

"Of course it's hair, she's ginger, isn't she?" Sera then stops and turns her head sideways. "Hey, from this angle it looks like her lady bits!"

Adaar, against her better judgment, tilts her head sideways and lets out a small chortle.

"Herah Adaar, this is precisely what I was talking about." Vivienne sighs.

"What?"

"Simply put, you have been doing ridiculously inappropriate things to impress-"

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Sera complains, pouting at the older woman.

"Sera, I sent the lizard back to your room."

Sera's blinks innocently. "Lizard, what lizard?"

Vivienne shrugs with all the grace of a player of the Game. "Don't play stupid, dear. I hope you don't plan on sleeping with your mouth open. Little six-legged Lizzie is heavily pregnant and she's looking for a nice, warm place to lay her eggs in. Skitter skitter skitter skitter."

Sera scowls in disgust. "Ew! That ain't really gonna happen, innit?" She looks pleadingly at Adaar.

Vivienne runs a set of wiggling fingers up Sera's bare arm. "Skitter skitter skitter-"

"Quit it, you hag!" Sera slaps away the mage's arm, getting only a smug and satisfied smirk in response.

Cassandra pinches the bridge of her nose. "Okay, stop it, both of you. You're giving me a headache."

"I don't know, Cassandra, I think it's quite funny." Adaar chuckles.

"Hey!" Sera objects.

"You should have seen it when I brought Solas and Sera to that elven ruin." Adaar shudders at the memory. "Be grateful I didn't take you along for that one."

After several colorfully worded protests and quick, witty rebuttal from a well spoken Vivienne, Cassandra sighs almost painfully and receives a pitiful look from Adaar. "Okay, stop it. Sera, put on some clothes and stop distracting the Herald."

Sera simply sticks out her and leaves for the bathroom with her clothes in hand.

* * *

"At the moment, we know nothing about this Alexius other than that he is a Tevinter magister." Cassandra thinks out loud, stroking her chin in deep thought.

"And he's apparently involved in a cult that's obsessed with me." Adaar comments, crossing her legs casually. "Too bad it's the 'we're going to kill you because reasons' cult and not the 'we love you and want your babies' type. Not that I'd like the latter, of course."

"Don't forget he's a arsebiscuit pissbag slaver who sent us home after all that trouble." Sera quips as she rests her chin on her hand. "Nooo, don't mind that we had to go through a shitting time magic fade thingy with demons jumping at us every damn second, you can just go home because my head's too far up my arse and I have slaves to shove my cod around to."

Adaar sniggered at the elf. "Maybe I should have brought presents. How rude of me."

"The only thing you should have given him is a good ol' flaming bag of dog shite."

Cassandra ignores this and turns to Adaar. "We should get back to Haven tomorrow and discuss things there, then. I will write to Leliana about this immediately."

Sera, seemingly appalled at the idea, stands up so fast that she nearly knocks her chair down. "No way, I'm itching to take this nug humper down." She turns to Adaar and beams smugly. "Come with me, I know someone here."

Vivienne gives the elf an unamused yet curious glance. "And what is it that you intend to do?"

"Nothing much," Sera fetches her quiver and bow. "Just looking for some information, yeah?"

Adaar reaches for the staff leaning by her bed and checks her pockets for health poultices, just in case. "Are we going to meet one of your 'friends'?"

"You know it," Sera winks. "Now hurry up before it's bed time for him."

* * *

"The bakery, Sera?"

"Yeah, they sell nice tarts here."

Adaar watches, puzzled, as Sera grabs a whole bunch of strawberry tarts and checks her pockets for two pieces of sovereigns once she reaches the counter. Adaar gives her a look. "You know you can just ask me out if you want to. No excuses about looking for information needed."

Sera takes the bag of tarts from the baker and starts walking out. "Do you want me to?"

"Perhaps." Adaar replies, with a shrug. Yes, she thinks, as they walk side by side to a dark, run down neighborhood that's seen better days.

"Too bad," Sera grins and confidently strides into one small alley after another. "Because we're here and it's almost bed time for my friend."

The smell is less than stellar, and there are old, crumbly wooden houses around which there's a small white dog running about with small children. One of them, a tan skinned and chestnut haired young boy no older than five, notices the pair approaching and smiles widely, displaying a row of buck teeth.

"Sera!" He laughs, running at full speed towards the elf.

Sera bends her knees and welcomes the hug with open arms, spinning the boy around before setting him down. "Tobias, you've gotten a lot bigger, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Tobias says, tightly holding on to the elven archer. After a few moments, he pulls back and notices the qunari giving him a friendly smile. "Phwoar, you're big."

"Hi to you too, kid." Adaar smiles, ruffling Tobias' hair. "Name's Adaar."

Tobias tilts his head innocently and a grin lights up his face. "Hey, Sera, is this your girlfriend?"

Adaar's voice catches in her throat. "I wish, but we're not there... Yet." She winks at the boy, trying to play it cool. But it was too late, the split second when her face flushed in embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed by Sera, who seems very pleased with herself.

"Well, you should go for it!" Tobias says, taking Adaar's large hands in his own. "She's really funny and pretty and she brings me cakes every time she visits!"

Sera facepalms. "Oh, yeah, the tarts!" She hands them to Tobias, who snatches the bag with the speed of a mabari hound. "It's strawberry, your favorite."

"Aw, thanks!"

Sera bends down and playfully pinches the boy's cheeks. "Share them with your mom and sister, yeah? Tell them it's a thanks for what I'm going to ask."

Tobias takes a huge bite out of a tart. "Anything you want to know, Sera."

"You know that man in the funny red clothes? What do you know about him?"

Tobias swallows his bite and frowns. "He's mean, I don't like him. He makes Fiona do bad things for him, I don't like it because I like Fiona. She's a nice lady."

"What did he make her do?"

"I was in the stables when I heard. He makes her meet with bad people. There was this man in fancy clothes who came the other day to talk with Fiona, he had a really big nose and a bushy beard. Baron something, I forgot his name." Tobias clenches his fists and teeth. "I hate him. He hit my sister when all she did was look at him!"

Sera pulls him into a hug and strokes the boy's hair. "It's okay, Sera's going to get the bad man and kick him where it hurts."

"Okay." The boy says, blinking away the tears that are starting to form in his eyes. He lowers his voice, as if afraid someone will hear. "Promise me you'll get him."

"Promise." When Sera finally lets go, Tobias lets out a large yawn that shows his buck teeth and one missing tooth. "Sera's got to go now, Tobias, but we'll be back soon."

"Okay, come back soon!" Tobias says, and both Adaar and Sera wave goodbye to him as they walk back to the tavern.

Sera gives Adaar a proud look. "And that's how it's done."

* * *

Sera sits own across from Adaar, a tankard of ale in hand. "Nothing like a drink to end the night, yeah?"

Adaar nods in agreement and takes a long drink. The two drink in silence, finally getting a chance to rest their tired limbs after a whole day of fighting and traveling, before Adaar motions for the bartender to fill her empty tankard again. "It's been three months since you came, huh."

"Yeah, it's been fun here." Sera slightly slurs, rubbing her eyelids.

She laughs softly. "Fun for you, you're not the one who has to deal with all the yelling in the war room. Or this Herald bullshit." Adaar chuckles.

Sera giggles. "Well, sucks for you. I guess there's some arseheads in the Inquisition but I guess there's some good people there." She says, with a voice devoid of her usual abrasiveness. Adaar figures it's because of the lack of energy and slight inebriation, but she decides this Sera is charming in her own way, although the qunari won't trade the usual brusqueness of the elf for the world.

"Good people like me?" Adaar grins wryly.

"Don't let it go to your head, you twit." Sera jests. "It would suck if you became like big people."

"It's admirable, what you do." Adaar murmurs. "All those people who get stomped around must think of you as a hero."

Sera scoffs derisively and takes a long drink. "Yeah, I damn well wish." She stares at the bottom of her empty tankard. "Some of those ungrateful tits say I'm just some pickpocket with revenge fantasies, a wannabe hero!" She grips her tankard hard and slams it down. Looking down in shame, she slurs, "Shite, I'd never admit it but sometimes I think-... no, know that's all I am too. I'm just throwing beehives at people and stealing stuff while you're ending the war between shitheads in nightgowns who friggin throw fire and self righteous shitheads who polish their stupid helmets all day."

Silence. "Hey, remember when we were in that small town where villagers were low on supplies and starving? I was ready to get out of that hole and get to camp already, but then you knocked me by the horns and told me I was acting like an asshole again."

Sera crosses her arms stubbornly. "So what, I'm your moral clock now?"

"Yes, and that's what the Inquisition needs." Adaar falls silent as a thought hits her. "And you've got potential, Sera. You could organize the Friends of Red Jenny and make it real. Hit'em where it hurts."

"You're pulling my leg, right?" Sera looks at Adaar like her horns had just fallen off and grown back again. "You're the one who has your stupid honey tongue charm shit, all I've got is arrows!"

"But the Jennies respect you."

Sera's the one who falls silent this time. Adaar can see the gears running in her head, turning and cranking like a well oiled machine. "...I don't wanna think about this right now. And can I ask you a question?" She asks in a bad attempt to change the topic.

Failing to notice the digression with her normally sharp wit dumbed down by the alcohol, Adaar simply nods.

"You don't have a lot of experience with girls, yeah?"

Adaar pauses. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, I can tell with all your virgin blushing earlier." The elf teases. "Anyway, don't think I don't see it when you go out of your way to do shite with me even though people give you the stink eye when you do that." She says this in a low voice.

Adaar raises her arms in surrender. "You've got me there."

"Can't imagine why girls don't come after you like bees to honey, honestly." Sera leans forward and slumps on the table, looking at the qunari with a playfulness in her eyes. "Like I said, you're well fit. Good with your head. Good with your mouth too."

Adaar snickers at the innuendo Sera may have said on purpose. But she can't tell and doesn't care, her head's already gone light and the alcohol's already loosened her lips. "'Big scary qunari mage' isn't usually in girls' to do lists, Sera. Except maybe yours."

"Hey, how can I help it? I like em tall, and you keep doing that acceptance thing that I'm not used to. Hell, humans don't like me 'cause I'm an elf, elves don't like me 'cause I'm not elfy, others don't like me 'cause I'm an asshole."

Sera takes a careless drink that accidentally sends a small splash of ale on her lips. A thought passes Adaar's mind, but she pushes those down and instead stares down at her half empty tankard. "Aren't we all assholes sometimes?"

"Touché."

"I'm not used to everything here. Not used to having a real cause to fight for, not used to having real people who bleed together with me," Adaar nervously fidgets with a buckle that holds a clasp of iron in place on her horn. "And not used to you too. In a good way, of course."

"What?"

Adaar immediately regrets saying it and self-consciously averts her gaze. "You'll have to get me drunker if you want me to explain something so embarrassing."

"Shit, I'm barely staying awake right now."

"Fucking demons took a lot out of us today." Adaar comments, finishing the last of her ale.

"I'll get you drunker next time, and I'm gonna hear whatever it is you were gonna say." Sera pauses. "...Buckles."

"...Buckles?"

"Buckles."

"You're giving me a pet name already?"

"Yes, and I'm not telling you what it means until you tell me what you were going to say earlier."

Adaar folds her arms on the table and lies down her heavy head on them. Her muscles are aching from all the walking and fighting and her eyelids are getting more and more difficult to stay open. She has a feeling she's going to really feel it tomorrow. "I'm too tired to go back upstairs."

"Me too."

And they fall asleep right there.


	3. That's What She Said

The Nightingale splashes an ice cold bucket of water on the baron, ignoring his multitude of threats and swears. "Talk." The former chantry sister growls.

The baron shivers from the cold, but he isn't breaking. His fists clench and his eyes are still alive. He opts to spit at the red haired woman, who simply scowls at him in response to the new moisture on her boot.

"Heh, you're too kind, sister." Iron Bull steps forward and cracks his knuckles. He looks at Adaar, waiting for his signal.

"He's all yours, Bull." Adaar nonchalantly says. "I'm going out for some fresh air."

Iron Bull gives the baron a look that would give any normal man a reason to piss his pants. "You got it, boss."

Adaar breathes in the cold, crisp air of Haven. It smells like Flissa is making her usual stew in the tavern. Adaar sighs tiredly and thinks of how nice stew would be in this cold weather. She kicks a patch of snow away in boredom when someone punches her lightly on the shoulder.

"Something wrong, big girl?"

"Hey." Adaar says, giving the smaller girl a light punch on the shoulder in return. "Didn't see you there, Sera. And yeah, Baron 'Stache isn't cracking. Maybe I should light that mustache of his on fire so he'll talk?"

"You keep saying stuff like that and people won't stop being scared of you." Sera teases, poking the large qunari in her stomach. The large woman gives a surprised laugh and recoils violently in a comical manner for someone of her size. Slowly, an ear-to-ear grin takes over the elf's face. "No freakin' way, the scary , big, horny mage is ticklish!"

Adaar slowly backs away from the elf, who's approaching her with nimble fingers ominously wriggling about. She considers objecting about the horny part, but she reckons she has more pressing issues to deal with. "Now, now, Sera... Don't do anything-"

Sera lunges forward with speed that catches Adaar off guard. Before she can fathom what's happening, Sera's fingers are at her sides and Adaar can't make a single word sound legible with the combination of screaming, laughing and gasping that's escaping her mouth. "S-Stop! Please!" She manages to choke out as she tries to pry Sera's hands away. It's useless, the archer's hands are too fast and they retreat before Adaar's large ones can grab them, finding their way back to some other sensitive part of her gut before she tries to pry them away with the same result. The sound of Adaar's booming laughs and pleads draws many strange looks from Haven's workers, but the qunari doesn't care how ridiculous she looks so long as she can breathe again. In an effort to shake off the blonde, Adaar manages to think fast and tackle Sera by the shoulders. Hope flutters in Adaar's chest when she and Sera tumble down to the ground, but her glory is short lived; just before they reach the ground, Sera flips Adaar over and they fall into a cushioned pile on the white blanket of snow.

"Shit." Adaar mutters, when she opens her eyes and finds the archer sitting contently on her hips.

"That's right, Buckles." Sera husks leans down so much that their noses are almost touching. Adaar holds her breath and gulps, face growing hot. "You're mine." And then Sera prepares for another assault on Adaar's gut when they both hear a throat being cleared.

They turn their heads and find Cassandra standing alone, averting her gaze. "I thought you were interrogating our prisoner, Adaar?"

Adaar's about to reply when the dungeon door slams open and the three of them jump in surprise. Cassandra readies her sword, Sera quickly jumps off Adaar's hips and aims, and Adaar crystalizes shards of ice to hurl at the escaped prisoner.

The man standing in the doorway isn't the baron; it's Iron Bull, knuckles bloodied and face twisted into a rage that would send even the most fearless soldier running for retreat.

Adaar lowers her hands and sighs in relief. The months she's spent with the Inquisition has kept her on edge for just about everything from rogue templars to rebel mages and she honestly needs a nice, long drink to calm down. "No luck either, Bull?"

"Sorry, boss," Bull stomps right past the trio without so much as a glance. "You're on your own with this asshole." And he leaves for the tavern, muttering a string of curses in Qunlat that almost makes Adaar cringe. Almost. The many evenings the she's been spending with Sera has left her able to spout more curses than a pirate.

Adaar turns to Cassandra and sighs. "Well, I guess I really am going to have to set the baron's mustache on fire."

"Perhaps I should handle it?" Cassandra balls her fist resolutely and narrows her eyes. "I am not one to turn to violence so quickly, but I can be very persuasive if I so desire."

Adaar holds in a laugh. "If you mean you're going to punch him into submission like you almost did to me all those months ago, then you're going to be severely disappointed. Bull tried and he failed."

"No need to punch around, ladies." Sera intervenes, standing between the two. "As much as I like seeing a well fit warrior beating the shit out of noble pricks, I've got a better idea."

Cassandra ignores the 'well fit' part and looks at the elf skeptically. "And this idea is...?"

Sera smirks. "Get me some honey and a beehive."

* * *

"I must say, Sera, we should have you interrogate our prisoners more often." Cassandra says, the disbelief evident in her impressed tone.

"I know, right?" Sera says, puffing out her chest proudly. "Nothing some bees and honey can't solve."

"You could give the Carta's thugs a run for their money, Buttercup." Varric chuckles and walks with long strides to make up for his short legs. The forest's wet uphill trail isn't making it easy for the dwarf, who's sweating and breathing hard. "Crap, with a simple fetch operation, you'd think we could just get some scouts to get the package."

From the top of the hill, Sera pokes out her head from above a thick bush and yells, "Hey! I think I found 'Stache's stash!" She giggles at her own horrible pun, gaining a groan from both Varric and Cassandra.

Adaar uses her staff to help her hike up a steep step and sighs in relief when she realizes she's finally there. "You've been waiting to say that, haven't you?"

Just as Cassandra and Varric are reaching the top of the hill, Adaar grazes her palm on the bark of an old tree with thick branches and rich emerald leaves. With the collection of dense plants and trees, Adaar doubts that even heavy rain could penetrate to the ground below. The one lone hole in the middle of it's trunk is just the perfect height for anyone to peer in. Sera sticks out her tongue at the qunari and sticks her hand into the hole.

"Buttercup!" Varric, still gasping from the climb, exclaims with a fretful edge in his tone. "You know bad things happen when you stick your hand in holes like that."

Sera laughs perversely and winks at Adaar. "That's what he said."

Adaar gives the elf an amused chuckle. "You'd better be glad life doesn't follow the rules of horror novels, Sera. You'd be the first one dead if it did."

The archer pulls out her hand, a simple locked metal box the size of a dinner plate in her hands. She raises it up like a treasure stolen from a dragon's cave. "Guess what, Buckles? Nothing bad happened."

"Yet." Cassandra deadpans.

Varric crosses his arms and grins. "'Buckles', huh?"

"Having a pet name like that doesn't bode well for my 'scary qunari mage, i will destroy you' image, doesn't it?" Adaar complains in mock disgust.

"Nope, but it does bode well for your 'protagonist of Varric's next novel' image."

"Aw, don't be such a Negative Nelly, Cass." Sera gingerly pulls out a lock pick from her pocket and starts working. "That attitude's got to be why- I got it!"

Adaar, Cassandra and Varric all gather over the elf and the box and watch intently as Sera flips the box open and pulls out a single scrap of paper. On it, only two words are written in a crisp and educated hand:

I win.

"Piss." Sera swears, and an arrow hisses through the air and cleanly pierces through the tendons of her calf with a sickening sound. Before she falls to the ground, the elf reaches for the hole in the tree and uses it to hoist herself up. She hisses in pain; feeling her torn muscles burn with every effort to stand up with both legs.

Adaar casts a barrier spell and instinctively stands between the injured archer and the source of the arrow. She gives her staff a swing and launches a wild ball of flame at the spot in front of her. Plants, flammable. Flush them out with fire. Can't take too long or we'll get overwhelmed. She thinks. She points the blade of her staff outwards, prepared for a close-quarters confrontation.

Cassandra stoutly stands with her shield up, sword gripped tight. Varric wisely positions himself beside the Seeker with his finger ready to pull Bianca's trigger. Sera tries to ignore the liquid steadily oozing from her wound, shakily holding a bow and arrow in preparation for a shot, not that it would be possible to do that with her allies standing protectively around her. But she hates standing there, defenseless, so she does it anyway.

Smoke trails out of the spot where Adaar cast her fireball. A rustle. Varric aims and releases his bolt within a millisecond, pleased when he hears a grunt of pain. He doesn't remain pleased for long; two warriors wielding shields walk out of the bushes.

"Go, Cassandra." Adaar says, staff clenched tightly in her hands. "We'll cover you."

Cassandra nods and charges at an alarming speed towards the closest warrior. Adaar slams her staff into the ground and ice climbs steadily up the first warrior's legs, effectively planting him in place. Cassandra sidesteps into a position where his shield can't protect him, and parries a wild strike the warrior swings in a desperate try to keep the Seeker away. Varric shoots a steady amount of bolts at the second warrior to stop him from closing in and flanking Cassandra and Adaar sweeps her staff to create arcs of lightning that travel and paralyze the first warrior, then the next. The first warrior's eyes bulge in terror as the Nevarran's sword effortlessly slice through his gut and blood spills on the ice at his feet.

Adaar and Varric prepare for a ranged assault on the last warrior before a rogue jumps out, daggers aimed at Adaar's throat. Sera swears and manages to make a sloppy shot that misses the rogue by an inch, her balance less than stellar with only one leg for her to keep her footing with. But it turns out that a missed shot is all it takes for the rogue to lose his stability, and Adaar takes the opportunity to jab the blade of her staff into his throat.

A light drizzle starts to fall. Cassandra is countering attack after attack and lunges forward for the kill. Another rogue jumps out from a nearby tree, landing behind the Nevarran, who hears the rustle behind her and prepares to hop away to find a more favorable position. But a bolt hits the rogue, then a shard of ice, and then a final arrow lands in his neck for good measure. Another extra bolt ends up in the warrior's unguarded foot, and Cassandra uses his slight falter to plunge a sword in his chest.

And the fight is over. "I'll search the bodies. You go look at Buttercup." Varric says to Adaar, and wastes no time in rolling over a dead rogue and checking his pockets. Cassandra sheathes her sword and steadies her breath before following the merchant.

The adrenaline starts to fade and Sera feels everything, from the blood that leaks out with every second to the sting of the sweat that enters the wound. She finally lets herself fall to the ground and grunts when the thud only seems to make every nerve in said wound burn hotter. A stream of curses flow out from her mouth like water escaping a broken dam.

Adaar rushes to her side and brushes stray locks of hair from Sera's face. "Sera, Sera, calm down." The qunari says, grabbing the elf's shoulders to make her stay still.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!" Sera hisses, gripping the grass below in pain. "This shite hurts!"

"Shhh, shhh." Adaar gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm going to have to take it out, Sera."

"What?! Fuck, this already hurts enough as it is, Buckles! Shit!" Sera breathes, her shaking hands trying to pry Adaar's large ones from her shoulders.

"Sera, calm down." Adaar slowly says. "Look at me." Sera does, and bites her lip to stand the hurt. "Our camp's too far away to wait for medics and a stretcher. We can't bring you there like this or else you'll get infected or the movement will make the arrow move around and hurt worse."

Sera looks down, at her wound, caked with an unpleasant combination of blood and mud. "Okay, fine, just don't make it hurt more than it should, Buckles."

Adaar nods and turns to Cassandra. "Cassandra, can you find a strip of cloth?"

"I think I can." She replies, before she rips open the shirt of a dead rogue. She takes it off the corpse and turns it over to a side where it isn't either bloody, muddy, or both. A few yanks is all it takes for the woman to come up with two decent sized strips that she immediately delivers to the Herald.

Adaar unsheathes a pocket knife that she always keeps in her coat. Cassandra folds the first strip of cloth into a nice, cylinder shaped shape.

"This is going to hurt, Sera." The Seeker says, putting the strip of cloth within Sera's biting distance.

"That's what she said." The archer manages to jest, whimpering before she takes the strip between her teeth.

Adaar holds one end of the arrow in her hand, her other one placing the knife right over the other end. Her hands are shaking too much. Sighing, she turns to Cassandra and hands her the knife. "Can you handle this one for me?"

Cassandra just nods and takes the knife, kneeling before the elf and taking one end of the arrow in her armored hand. Adaar takes Sera's quivering hand in her own and gives her a reassuring look. Sera grins, even with the cloth in her mouth, and that's when Cassandra brings the knife down and it cuts through the wood. Even with the Seeker's tight grip, the arrow twitches in the wound and Sera bites down and yells a muffled sound of pain, gripping Adaar's hand hard.

When Cassandra sees Sera's grimace finally disappear, she asks, "Shall I pull it out now?"

Sera nods and mutters something like "Best get it over with." and she feels a strong arm slowly wriggle the arrow out. She bites down again and clasps Adaar's hand tight. She can feel new tears form in her ripped sinews as the arrow is slowly pushed and squirmed out. She screams into the cloth, digs her fingernails against the calloused flesh of Adaar's palm, and tries to blink away the tears that are slowly trying to trail down the corners of her eyes. Adaar softly strokes away the beads of sweat that are starting to drip down Sera's forehead, and when the arrow is finally out, blood runs freely from both holes in the blonde's calf. Sera releases the breath she doesn't realize she's been holding and spits out the cloth.

"That hurt." She mutters, finally loosening her grip from Adaar's hand, where deep marks from her nails are starting to bloom.

"Come on, I'll carry you back." Adaar says, before her previously distressed face gives way to a lighthearted smile. "Or do you want me to kiss it better before we go?"  
_

Once Adaar wraps some cloth around the wound, it takes some time to get Sera on Adaar's shoulders. It's a long walk back to camp, but having Sera ride on Adaar's shoulders makes the trip significantly less excruciatingly slow.

"Giddy up." Sera chortles, giving Adaar's side a small kick like a knight and her horse. Her big, horned, gray horse who casts magic spells and has a surprising talent for sarcasm and wit. The qunari makes her best effort at neighing and fails miserably, making a sound akin to a dying nug instead. Then Sera grabs her horns like a steering wheel and Adaar makes an abrupt stop, and the elf is glad she's holding her horns or else she would have lost her balance. "What wrong, Buckles?"

Adaar falls silent for a while. "Sorry, Sera, but please don't grab my horns."

"What? Are they ticklish or somethin'?" Sera giggles and starts tickling Adaar's horns. This, of course, doesn't make the qunari laugh.

The mage lowers her head in embarrassment. She clenches her fists. "No, just... I'll tell you later. But could you just not touch them now? It's uncomfortable."

Sera just lets go and glances at Varric and Cassandra, who are both giving her clueless looks that indicate they have no idea either. It really was weird for the humorous qunari to say something that isn't meant to be taken humorously, or for Sera's case, flirtatiously and humorously.

The walk back to camp is uneventful. Varric tells a story about the time Hawke's brother lost to this sweet, innocent Dalish elf in a drinking contest and Cassandra makes a few quips here and there. Sera occasionally brushes away a few of Adaar's white locks that fall out of place. When they're back at camp, Cassandra calls for a medic to put some disinfectant on Sera's leg, a process that takes a while because the elf keeps shouting obscenities and pulling her leg in reaction to the sting.

Adaar enters the tent just as the medic shuffles out, giving a nod of thanks before she sits by Sera's mattress. "Can I see your leg?"

Sera smirks, but the fatigue is apparent in her pale face. "Oh, scandalous."

"Saucy." Adaar smirks back and scoots closer. She gently takes Sera's leg onto her lap and stretches out her palm over it.

"Wait." Sera jerks her leg back and winces at the pain.

"It's just healing magic, Sera." Adaar says, carefully moving the leg back on her lap. "I know I kinda suck at it, but I'm not going to make demons crawl out of that hole in your leg."

Sera lies her head back on the shitty, hard pillow. "Fine then, just don't set my leg on fire, yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm just going to give your leg a homoerotic caress at most."

Sera giggles. A soft, green glow emanates from Adaar's hand that feels warm and strangely comforting on the elf's injury. She can feel the torn fibers of her leg slowly come together and close it's rips slowly but surely.

"A story to pass the time?" Adaar offers.

Sera nods.

"I think it was around ten years ago when I escaped from the Qun." Adaar starts. "I was a zit faced teenager then, and they didn't like it when I started screaming in my sleep and burning stuff with my bare hands."

"Do the qunari have Circles?"

Adaar chuckles. "Hell, no. If you were a mage, they'd handcuff you, cut your horns off, and turn you into some kind of glorified slave owned by a 'worthy warrior', an Arvaraad. If you're too dangerous or disobey the hundred or so rules they have for mages there, they cut your tongue out and sew your mouth shut."

"That would be shitty," Sera comments and chuckles. "You wouldn't be able to do your honey tongue thing, woo the ladies, if it's been cut off, yeah?"

"And I wouldn't be able to sweet talk you." The qunari jokes. "As you can see, they really don't like mages. They even have a name for us. Saarebas. 'Dangerous thing'. I was an _Aquna-flak_ in training, a female warrior of the Qun, then I fucked up and got a vivid dream from a demon one night and nearly burned my quarters down in my sleep."

"You've got to admit that sounds scary." Sera shudders. "Ugh."

"Then they chained me to a wall. Hands, feet, and horns. They told me I was too dangerous with my talent for destructive magic, and said I wasn't ever going to be Aquna-flak because I was Saarebas. Dangerous thing. They put buckles on my horns and clasped them with iron, it's what they do in preparation for the de-horning."

Sera's eyes widen in surprise. "So the buckles on your horns..."

Adaar nods. "Yeah, they're the same ones. Then I got scared. I didn't want to be a slave. I had a smart mouth and I still wanted to use it. So I escaped. Melted the chains away."

"Just like that?" Sera raises her eyebrow suspiciously.

"No." Adaar looks away.

Sera sits up and puts a hand to her ear. "What is it? Here, whisper your dirty little secret."

Adaar faintly smiles and leans forward. She whispers in the elf's ear, "I killed them all."

Sera laughs. "That's it?" She looks at Adaar's hand, still glowing with magic as it repairs the hole in her leg.

Adaar doesn't reply, instead focusing on the healing spell. "I'm sorry, I know you're not the biggest fan of magic, but I had to tell you."

Sera just looks at the mage for a while. It's no secret that she doesn't like mages, not with their scary magic and demons and things she doesn't understand. She swallows and sighs. But this is Buckles. Her Buckles. Her Buckles isn't like the rest, she knows it and she'd give a flaming bag of nug shit to anyone who says otherwise.

"Don't be." Sera interrupts and tilts up Adaar's chin. "Look at me, Buckles." She does. "I don't like magic. I hate blood magic. It's bloody scary and I'd better not see you use it, and I don't know why I'm saying this because I would put an arrow in your face if you were anyone else, but it's not as bad because it's you. I've been following you around and staring at your arse for months. I know you're not like those bloody Tevinter arseholes. You won't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it, yeah?"

Adaar brings her hand up to the fingers tilting up her chin and strokes the back of Sera's hand with her thumb. "Yeah. Not really the big secret you were hoping for, isn't it? And Sera?"

"What? Gonna profess your love to me now?"

"No." Adaar grins and finishes the healing spell. She didn't do a very good just, seeing at the wound is still gaping, but Sera appreciates it nonetheless. "But would you like me to kiss it better again?"


	4. Big Damn Hero

It's embarrassing for Adaar to admit, but healing magic is not her forte. She did little for Sera's wound, and the qunari feels like a _Karasaad_ who has gone to battle and forgotten his sword when the medic informs them that the arrow had pierced bone and the elf has to use a crutch and have plenty of bed rest for a few weeks. In short, her healing spell was not effective. At all.

When Adaar is in Haven, she makes frequent visits and entertains Sera with tales of things she did during her travels without the archer. When she's gone, most of Sera's days consist of playing small pranks to piss people off and having drinking contests with Bull and his Chargers. When she can't do any of those things, she finds whoever else she can talk to. She'll never admit it, but it's refreshing to get to know some of the Inquisition's agents better. In just a week, she's found out that Krem has a very good taste in liquor and that Cullen is a very competent chess player. Or maybe she just sucks at chess. She also finds out that Blackwall combs his beard twice day. Mostly, she stays away from Solas and Vivienne. She has never liked the elf and she just can't ever manage to talk to the Orlesian without sounding stupid.

Which is why she's surprised when she wakes up one morning and sees Solas sitting beside her bed. Sera shakes her head to make sure she's not dreaming. Then she jerks back her leg when she sees that the bald elf is doing something to it. "What are you doing here?! Watching me sleep and-"

"Whoa, whoa." Adaar interrupts, suddenly bolting to her side. "I thought I'd ask Solas to do some healing spells on you to help you get on your feet sooner." Then she coughs self-consciously. "You know, since I suck at it."

"Well, you could have woken me up first and _asked_." Sera shudders at the thought of having magic performed of her while she was sleeping. Or awake. Or by anyone who wasn't Adaar.

"I would have, but it's nearly noon and some of us don't have all day." Adaar hands the elf a glass of water and affectionately ruffles her messy hair. "Out drinking with the Chargers again last night?"

Sera nods and brings the glass to her lips, feeling the water rush down and make the taste of the alcohol from last night more tolerable. She didn't have that much to drink, fortunately, and she now has a pleasure of a nice almost-noon without a nasty hangover. She's just about to complain about Solas' presence when she sees Adaar look pleadingly at her. Sera sighs and decides she's going to hold her tongue. For now. She's wary when Solas hesitantly goes back to doing his healing magic on her leg, but she lets him be.

"Come," Solas curtly says, beckoning the qunari to sit on the chair beside his. "Let me show you how it's done."

Adaar nods and makes a mental note to do the mage a favor later. He's not outwardly against it, but the horned mage can see that he's uncomfortable with being in the same room as Sera, and for a very good reason: every time they're together, it's an endless stream of mocking that's mostly coming from the female elf.

When she sits down, Solas removes his hand and the warmth of green energy leaves Sera's skin, replaced by a much less powerful one from Adaar's hand. "Your mind is chaotic, which explains why it is you have such an affinity for the more destructive forms of magic." Solas comments. "And it also explains why your healing spells are not very effective. Healing magic demands that the caster's emotions be calm, caring, nurturing."

"Thanks, Solas, I know I suck." Adaar grins and points at the mutitude of scars that mark her face. "If I was good at it, then I wouldn't have all this."

"I sense that you are growing discouraged." Solas smiles back with a contentness in his eyes that's always present when he's discussing magic. Then his smile grows stiff. "Don't be. In fact, I think _this_ will make it easier for you."

"...'This'?"

"Ah," Solas fidgets with the hem of his shirt nervously. "I hear that you two are... close. It should be easier to access... nice thoughts when one is healing someone... close, is it not?" He says, trying to mask the slight disapproval in his tone.

"I suppose it should be." Adaar mutters, mind focused on the spell that's definitely not getting more powerful. _Nice thoughts_, she thinks. _Think nice thoughts_. A frown starts to form on the qunari's face when she finds that the more she tries to concentrate, the more she can't. "Drat."

"It takes time, of course." Solas says, taking Adaar's hand down gently. "Do not be distressed, my friend. I have done what I can and Sera should be able to walk normally in roughly a week."

"A week?" Sera asks, disbelievingly. "No way, they said it would take at least a month!"

"Take a look at your wound again." Solas says, looking quite pleased. And Sera does; the gaping hole has narrowed substantially and she can barely see even a hint of exposed flesh. The throb she feels is lessened and it's barely noticable compared to the head-pounding pain she had a week ago. "I will take my leave now." He stands up hastily and gives a nod to both the women.

"Thanks for teaching me to suck less, even though I still suck." Adaar pats his shoulder.

Solas chuckles. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Adaar, these things take time." He replies and turns around towards the door.

Sera clutches her bedsheets and bites her lip, forcing herself to look at the back of the bald elf's head. "Hey, egghead!"

The mage turns his head and sighs, fully prepared to ignore whatever rude thing that will surely come out from the city elf's mouth. "Yes?"

"Thanks." Sera says, her voice sounding embarrassingly choked.

Solas freezes in shock for a moment but he later replies with a small smile. "You're welcome." He opens the door and looks back at Adaar with a disbelieving face before shutting the door quietly.

"Does that mean you two won't give me a splitting headache whenever I take you out together again?" Adaar chuckles and sits on the edge of the elf's bed, which creaks under the weight of the large woman.

"Do you wanna find out?"

"Hell no." Adaar groans like a dying cow and holds her head with both hands. "That trip was the literal worst and I don't intend on repeating it again. Ever."

"Fair enough." Sera shrugs, and raises an eyebrow amusedly. "Y'know, I hate his elfy this and magic that talk, but I'm no ungrateful tit."

"Great, then." Adaar clasps her hands together in made-up enthusiasm. "Next morning, I'll bring Vivienne here. You two could get along and become besties, maybe even decide to move in together with a pet nug for company."

Sera scrunches her nose in disgust. "Eugh, don't push it, may as well sleep in the barn, with all the pig shits and horse piss."

"I'm offended, Sera." Adaar pouts and crosses her arms. "You won't even consider staying with me? Or am I below pigs and horses now?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again." Sera says, leaning forward. With her face just an inch just in front of Adaar's, she gives the qunari's nose a brief peck and pulls back. "You'll have to buy me dinner first."

It takes a few seconds for Adaar to find her voice. "I-It's noon," She sputters, epically failing her attempt at being smooth. "Does lunch count?"

"Nah, not normally." Sera drags out her vowels in mock coyness. "I'll make an exception this time, yeah?"

Adaar grins toothily and jumps out the bed with a force that makes the poor thing creak hard. "Then I'll be back with your food, milady." She forces out the grin and replaces it with a flirtatious smirk as she heads out of the door and to the kitchen.

Once she closes the door, the qunari does an enthusiastic fist pump and quietly mouths "Yes!" several times.

* * *

A knock.

Sera giggles in anticipation and briefly combs her short hair with her fingers. "Come in, Buckles."

The smile on Sera's face falls when it's not Adaar who comes in, but a willowy servant girl with braided blonde hair carrying a plate of strawberry tarts. "M-Miss Sera?" The servant timidly asks. "I have something for you. F-From the Herald."

The elf is disappointed that Adaar's not here, but who is she to refuse a treat? "Yeah, you can put it here." Sera says and motions to the table next to her bed.

The servant girl hurriedly shuffles and puts the plate of tarts on the table before she turns around, nearly hiting Sera in the face with her braid, and runs out of the room without even shutting the door. "Weirdo." Sera shrugs. "Didn't even get to thank 'er." She mutters to herself, as she picks up a tart and prepares to pop one in her mouth.

"I see someone's starting without me."

Sera puts the tart back down and grins. "There you are, Buckles. Well, if you didn't want me to start first then why didn't you bring these yourself?"

"Because desserts come after the appetizer and the main course, of course." Adaar chuckles and sits next to the elf. "It seems that I've got competition for the lady's affections."

"What are you prattling on about now?" Sera says, scooting aside to make room for the large woman to sit.

"I didn't send these, Sera." Adaar deadpans.

"But that servant girl said you sent it to me."

Silence falls over the room as the women both stare at each other dumbly. The silence is broken when a loud noise makes them jerk in surprise. Sera looks around for a weapon, frustrated with her inability to do so thanks to her limited mobility. Lightning crackles in Adaar's hand, pointed towards their intruder.

Leliana stands in the doorway with a dagger in hand, two guards by her side. "Tell me you didn't eat it." She walks towards the two women, raising her voice.

"I thought so." Adaar clicks her tongue in annoyance. She turns to the elf beside her and sighs. "Seems like pissing on those nobles' lawns finally came back to bite you in the ass, Sera."

"Shite," Sera swears under her breath. "Those tarts looked damn good too. Some arsehole's gonna get a mouth full of arrows for this."

Adaar looks at her oddly. "I take it this isn't the first time?"

Sera laughs so casually that the two guards by Leliana's side start sending each other strange looks. "Of course not. I piss on a lot of noble's lawns, Buckles, sometimes they try to stick pointy swords in me. It's happened before. Nothing weird 'bout people wanting to kill me. First time someone's tried to off me with poisoned cake, though. I'm honored."

"We need to have a discussion." Leliana sheathes her dagger and motions for a guard to throw the tarts away. She gives Sera a look that makes the blonde almost shiver. "The assassin is being apprehended as we speak. Tell me, who would want to kill you enough to send an assassin to the Inquisition's base?"

"Oh, you know, not much?" Sera unsurely replies.

"Unlikely." Adaar teases.

"You tit."

"I need to narrow down the list of suspects, ladies." Leliana taps her foot impatiently.

Sera gives it a few seconds of thought. "I do a lot of pissing people off but I cover my tracks good. Can't think of anyone who'd send assassins after me if they don't know I'm the one who put lizards in their knickers, yeah?"

"Strawberry tarts." Adaar flatly says. "They're similar to the ones we got in Redcliffe."

"Have you got something?" Leliana asks calmly.

"Leliana, correct me if I'm wrong, but they don't sell strawberry tarts here, do they?"

"No, they don't." Leliana raises her eyebrows questioningly. "Why do you ask?"

"I think they've been watching us since Redcliffe. Maybe even before." Adaar narrows her brows ominously. "Why else would they send Sera an insult by killing her with the same treat she got not too long ago?"

"That's stupid." Sera scowls. "What's the point of sending an insult if I didn't even get it, huh?"

"I think that's kind of the insult." Adaar grins and flicks the elf's forehead playfully. "Be careful from now on, okay?"

"I will send my people to look into this." Leliana turns around and walks towards the door. "Someone is playing with you. Only a fool would try to poison you when they can simply overpower you in this state."

Sera frowns. "Tell me when you know who it is. I'll stick that bastard full of arrows, I will."

"Don't worry," Leliana chuckles. "I will."

* * *

Two plates of roast nugs arrive not more than five minutes later and Adaar watches in silent awe as Sera digs into her food with a ravenous hunger that shouldn't even exist in someone as small as she is. Except she isn't really that terribly small, she just looks like it in comparison to the qunari. Adaar chortles slightly at the sight of the smaller woman biting off chunks that are terrifyingly huge.

Sera swallows a hunk of meat and pulls the bones away from her face, setting it down on her place. There's a small smear of sauce on her cheek. "What?"

"You'd make a good mabari." Adaar manages to say through her laughs. "Damn, what I'd pay to have a mabari with an appetite like yours. Those poor rogue templars won't stand a chance!"

Sera puts her empty plate on her bedside table and smirks mischievously. "Careful what you wish for, Buckles." She says, before she almost stealthily climbs onto the bed on all fours, slowly prowling the qunari like a quillback on a hunt. Her movements are limber and the hungry look in her eyes makes Adaar's heart thump fast. The elf licks her lips slowly.

"S-Sera?" Adaar asks with an uncharacteristic timidity. She tries to move back, but she realizes she has nowhere to go when her horns hit the wall behind her. She's trapped. "What are you doing?"

Sera pounces and snarls as she goes for Adaar's throat. The qunari tries to hold her back, and this is her first mistake. The elf's pointed fingers go for the gut and it's too late for Adaar to scream because the moment those fingers start moving, she laughs so loudly she's sure Flissa can hear her from downstairs. She laughs like a madman as Sera continues to make snarling mabari noises, pretending to bite into the mage's throat. The elf's teeth only tickle the qunari's throat and she guffaws harder.

But this time, luck is in Adaar's favor. She grabs Sera by the shoulders and the elf, with her leg not completely healed yet, is too slow to react. With a flip, the large qunari is above and she smirks in a way that shows how satisfied she is with herself as she pins both Sera's arms down. Leaning down to the elf's ear, she whispers, "Victory is mine."

Sera growls and snaps her teeth by Adaar's ear and the qunari pulls her head back by reflex. Adaar stares at the girl below her, trying to make sense of what just happened, and she laughs and lets go of her arms. Sera joins in and laughs until her stomach hurts before she wipes a tear from her eye and puts her hand on her stomach.

"It's been great, doing this Inquisition thing." Sera chuckles, looking at the plate of bones that have been picked clean on her table. "No stealing for food no more."

Sensing a story, Adaar scoots closer to the girl. "A sovereign for your thoughts?"

"Ever been so hungry and thirsty you could feel it in your bones?" Sera asks, her voice soft.

"I can't say I have. The qunari kept everyone well fed. My mercenary group was nice enough to not let a Tal-Vashoth teen starve."

Sera looks forward, her eyes blank. "First, your mouth grows dry. Your lips get so chapped and you try to wet them, but there ain't even spit in your mouth anymore. It feels like there's a friggin' hole in your stomach, sucking you in from the inside. You can feel your muscles failing, getting smaller every single damn day. Then you feel cold, even though it's the middle of summer. In the end, you just want to lie down and you can't get up because you feel so tired you could just sleep and die."

Adaar doesn't say anything. She knows Sera doesn't like being pitied. "So you started stealing."

"And never stopped." Sera grins, the softness in her voice gone. "Even after I got adopted, I kept stealin'. Old habits, huh?"

"Wait," Adaar scratches her head in confusion. "You were adopted?"

"Yeah, but the old sod died when I was thirteen." Sera sighs. It takes a moment before she perks up again. "Doesn't matter. I was already so good I could steal a ring from your finger. I met someone around that time, yeah? Reminds me of you."

"Someone?" Adaar asks, a little ball of jealousy beginning to well up in her chest. _A past lover_? She thinks to herself.

"The big warden." Sera puffs up her chest in imitation. "She was all big and strong and had that charisma. Shiny armor, sword and shield, this dufus lookin' guy with her. She gave me pie. Typical fairytale hero, huh?"

"What!?" Adaar shakes her head in disbelief. "You're telling me you met Warden Cousland, hero of Ferelden, and King Alistair?"

"Yeah, kinda reminds me of you, with the big damn hero thing you've got goin' on."

Adaar smiles wryly. "There's nothing 'big damn hero' about being a scary, big, qunari mage, Sera. I'd need to be all charming and have shining armor to do that, don't I?"

"Bullshit, you already are a big damn hero." Sera flicks the taller woman's nose. "Charming, minus the shining armor bit."

"Try saying that to people the next time I show up at a village. I'm sure they'll hear you over the sound of everyone running away."

"Then they've got to take their heads out of their arses." Sera pouts, poking a finger to Adaar's chest. "I know a hero when I see one. Don't need no stupid sword and shield or shiny warden armor to be one."

Adaar finds her cheeks growing hot. She images they must be red, or as red as her gray skin can turn, anyway. "Thanks, Sera. And I suppose you're the girl I'm supposed to get in the end? Slay the big bad villain, kiss the girl?"

Sera laughs it off, but Adaar can see her embarrassment in the redness creeping to her ears. _Cute_, Adaar thinks. She'll have to think of a way to make the elf more flustered some time, just to see those pointy ears get redder.

"You're a loony."

"You love it."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"Let's get a mabari."

"Great." Adaar says, ideas beginning to surface in her mind. "I'll name her after you. Ares? Rase?"

"Eugh, that's terrible." Sera giggles, teasing the woman. "You can bring her around, yeah? Give the damn villagers another reason to run from you. Then I can keep you for myself."


	5. Adorabloodthirsty

Thanks to you all for all the positive feedback! It's all really motivating, and thanks for all the Merry Christmas wishes. Merry (late) Christmas to you too and have a happy New Year!

This is my first time writing something so serious, so I hope I won't disappoint.

* * *

Adaar doesn't expect it to come to this when she decides to confront Alexius.

_It's not real. It's not real._ Adaar keeps repeating those desperate thoughts in her mind. _This is never going to happen, it's not happening._

But it's all too real. The shards of red lyrium emanating warm, malicious vibes are real. The corpses strewn around Redcliffe castle, left to rot, they're all real. The terrifyingly huge spider that dropped on her head when she walked through a webbed doorway? Much too real.

All those thoughts of "_It's not real_" completely vanish when she finds Cassandra. The Seeker's much thinner now and there's something not quite right in her voice. There are cracks on her skin and Adaar swears she can see red peering out from those cracks. But Cassandra is Cassandra, and she remains stout and strong despite how much smaller she seems, even after a year left to rot in that dank prison cell.

Uneasiness starts to stew in Adaar's stomach. If Cassandra's here, then that means _she's_ not too far away either. The qunari can't stop wondering if she's okay. She knows Sera hates being told to stay still, hates being without her arrows, hates being helpless. How has she been doing in a _prison_, of all places?

Adaar knows she has to find out sooner or later, and preferably sooner, but it still doesn't make it easier for her. When she opens that rotted wooden door, she considers closing her eyes so she won't have to see who's there, but she doesn't want to get caught off guard in case there are Venatori there. And then she hears it: low whispers, muttering words that she can't hear. She hears something about willows there and reckons it's one of those poems Sera recites from time to time.

She stops murmuring and lets out a sound of frustration. "No, no, no, that's not it. They can't take that away from you... stupid."

The qunari's feet are heavy and shaking as they bring her to the front of the cell. Sera's just sitting there, but Adaar heart drops to the pit of her stomach nonetheless. At first, Adaar just hopes it's a mere trick of the light, but she knows she's just trying to fool herself; Sera is deathly pale. Her blonde hair's has dulled to a washed-out and muted muted yellow over the past year. The bagging in her armor tells Adaar that she's grown so ghostly thin that the qunari thinks even a slight touch will make the sinister cracks in her skin grow and extend until it splits her open into little pieces that the larger woman won't be able to put back together.

The trio's footsteps alert the elf, who looks up, even though every movement she makes, every change of expression makes the insides of her skin prick and her joints protest with sharp pain. The red lyrium planted inside her makes everything hurt, makes her mind cloudy and foggy with henious songs, like a cancerous egg that's slowly taking over her from the inside. Her face is littered with fissures that line her face like a collection of fiendish spiderwebs and there's a dying red glow in her pupils that taint her previously clear caramel eyes.

Those eyes widen and she springs up and grabs the cell bars, lips quivering and eyeing Adaar with a horrified gaze. "No! What are you doing here? You're dead!" She spits, then presses her forehead against the iron bars. "The dead ain't supposed to come back to life." She laughs painfully, despite the burning in her lungs, and sighs. "I'm finally going bonkers, seein' dead people and all."

Adaar steps forward and touches Sera's hand, cold almost like a corpse's. "No." Is all she can say with the lump in her throat. Desperately, she squeezes the hand, her voice sputtering like a frightened child. "I-I'm going to get you out. Make sure this never happens. This isn't real..."

"Say something, Buckles." Sera says, a pinch of dying hope in her raspy voice. "If you're real, say something."

Adaar's tongue stiffly refuses to move. She refuses to cry, even if her tears are starting to well up in the corners of her eyes. "I came back to haunt you, silly." She chokes.

"It's really you, huh... I missed you." Sera smiles and looks up into the qunari's eyes softly. "And I guess you're here to fuck shit up, yeah?"

"Of course." Adaar pathetically chuckles. "And I can't fuck shit up without you, can't I? Let's save the day again, just like old times. You and me and my merry band of misfits."

"I'd die just to friggin' spit in their faces, at this point."

Adaar pulls out a key, looted from a dead guard, and wastes no time in opening the cell door open with a loud creak that suggests no one's oiled it in a very long time. Once the barrier between them's gone, Sera jumps and flings herself into Adaar's arms. She buries her face into Adaar's chest and the qunari wraps her arms around the girl's back and waist, noting how much bonier the girl's become.

"We'll wreck this place and make sure none of this ever happens, yeah?" The elf mumbles into Adaar's collarbone.

"Of course." Adaar replies, with no intention of letting go.

Sera looks intently into Adaar's desolate eyes and tugs at her collar. "Get down here, you tit. I'm not going to disappear from existence without doing this at least once."

Without thinking, Adaar does what she's told and Sera places her hand on the back of Adaar's neck, pulling her in for a kiss, full on the lips. Adaar is shocked, but she doesn't linger on it, deciding to trail her hand to the small of Sera's back and pull her closer. She needs comfort in all this mess and she's not going to turn it away, damn it.

Sera's lips are chapped and dry. Adaar doesn't know how long the other girl's gone without water, but she knows it's been a long time. Their lips move roughly and desperately as Adaar balls her fist in Sera's hair, deepening the kiss in a bleak attempt to assure the other woman, or maybe to assure herself, that everything will be fine.

It occurs to Adaar that maybe she can use her healing magic to help her, maybe get the lyrium out of her flesh. It's a long shot, but green glow on her shaking hand remains for a few seconds before Adaar realizes it's not working. And suddenly, she can't hold it in anymore. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks, some of them straying onto her lips. She sobs into Sera's lips, disregarding Dorian and Cassandra's sympathetic looks.

When she recognizes the salty taste in their kiss, Sera pulls back and wipes the tears away, her thumbs grazing over Adaar's scarred face. "Don't cry, Buckles. You'll be okay." She says, leaving Adaar wondering how she's the one comforting her when the elf is the one in such a horrible state.

Adaar nods and holds the elf tight, knowing the time she can spare to be able to hold her like this is limited. But the weight in her chest isn't going away, because she realizes that Sera said the mage will be okay, and she's probably right, assuming they can make sure this never happens.

But Sera will not be okay. She may perish in battle in her current state. If they fail to go back, she'll die slowly and painfully while the lyrium eats at her from the inside out. Adaar knows that she can undo this, but she can't help but feel that the damage has been done. The damage done to Sera is real.

And she can't do anything about it.

* * *

Leliana is really pissed when she finds out they have to go around and pick up shards from corpses' pockets when Dorian tells her they need those pieces to open the door to Alexius' chambers. In her ghastly state, with her voice rasping and her body failing, no one has the heart or nerve to say that she doesn't have the right to be mad. Even Dorian falls silent when he's chastised for not having found out what the shards did before they left them behind.

"Let's split up to make things faster." Leliana flatly says, the irritation evident in her sharp tone. "You two," She points to Adaar and Sera. "Stay here and make sure Alexius doesn't get out."

When Leliana disappears through a door, Dorian lets go of the breath he's been holding. "I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." He comments, before he and Cassandra both exit the room. Adaar can hear the echoes of Dorian and Cassandra's voices as the Tevinter mage makes small talk with the Nevarran.

Adaar plops down by a wall and pats the ground beside her, beckoning Sera to join her. The elf is all too happy to sit down after several fights that had worn out her frail body. With Adaar's arm around her waist, Sera rests her head on the qunari's shoulder and asks, "We never did get that mabari, huh?"

"We will." Adaar squeezes the girl's hand. "We'll go straight to Ferelden's best kennel after I kick Alexius' ass, and I'll get you the biggest, scariest mabari there is."

"Great," Sera giggles tiredly. "Although I don't have to worry about keeping you for myself now, yeah?"

"You never had to worry about it." Adaar mutters, kissing the elf on her forehead.

Sera takes the qunari's large, calloused hands, and absentmindedly starts stroking them gently. "What's wrong? You've making that face again. The 'I'm trying to shit but the shit just won't come out' face."

"Did-... does it hurt?"

Sera smirks. "When I fell from heaven?"

Adaar weakly laughs.

Sera brings the back of Adaar's hand to her lips and sighs. "Yeah. It hurts. A lot." She says, the fatigue starting to show in her voice. But still, she looks up at Adaar with hope in her tired eyes. "But it's okay. Do me a favor?"

"Sure." Adaar says _"But it's not okay_." echoes in her mind.

"When you get back, let me kick the Tevinter's balls as hard as I can."

"Will do." Adaar smiles.

Sera looks down forlornly as the lyrium beneath her skin makes her deteriorating body ache. "I know I don't have much time, Buckles. So I'll say it before shite blows up and you're gone. Or I'm gone. Whatever. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Groaning in what Adaar thinks is humiliation, Sera rubs her nose sheepishly and gives her a regretful look. "I know past me's gonna give you lots of trouble. Hell, past me's already given you a lot of shit whenever you do anything magic or whenever you bring Egghead and Vivi, and I know she-... I'm going to give you a lot more 'cause I'm stupid and selfish and-"

"And I'm an asshole sometimes," Adaar interrupts. "And I make bad decisions, I never listen to you when you tell me to stay away from suspicious magic stuff that always end up blowing up in my face, and-"

"And you keep seeing me and bringing me along to places, even though it makes your job harder." Sera says, playfully twirling Adaar's locks of white hair. "I know what they say about how the Herald of Andraste shouldn't be with a thief who's got no actual job, or coin, or anythin'."

"And they can kiss my ass, I think you're swell."

"When you get back, tell me to step up my game, yeah?" Sera smiles wearily. "Tell me to catch up with your heroics."

"I think you're forgetting that most of my 'heroics' are _our_ heroics. We did those together."

"I guess you got a point." Sera does that sardonic laugh of hers and she gets up into a kneeling position. "Hey, Buckles."

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever let me go. No matter what people say, alright? Promise me." Sera softly says, her fingers tracing Adaar's jawline.

"Promise." Adaar says, stroking the elf's cracked cheek.

And Sera kisses the qunari, softly this time. The kiss is sweet and slow, both women occasionally giggling and smiling too much to actually mack on each other properly. Adaar lets out a low, pleased hum, willing away the thoughts that tell her this Sera's going to be gone soon, one way or another. She knows Sera won't remember any of this, won't remember the sweet kisses they're exchanging, but it's for the best; she won't remember the pain of the lyrium inside her either.

Adaar knows she'll have to let go soon, but she isn't prepared to do it. When they finally kill this wretched timeline's Alexius, when demons start flooding the room in swarms of terror, she knows it's time. It feels like a tug in her heartstrings, at first.

But then she sees Cassandra and Leliana, unwavering in the face of certain death, and she shakes her head, refusing to belive this is actually happening. She doesn't know how they can stay so strong facing their doom, while she's going to live but is currently a miserable wreck.

She and Sera's last kiss is drowned in the qunari's tears when the elf pulls back, saying, "One for the road." Then she walks towards the door and doesn't look back, even when Adaar is shouting her name and Dorian is curses as he tries to hold her back. The large door shuts, and the qunari's eyes are blurry with tears as she listens to the sounds of slaughter on the other side. She can't block out the noise of flesh being torn apart and pierced, wincing with every sound that reaches her ears. When the demons finally barge the door open, she sees three bodies on the floor. Bloody, mangled, dead. Sera's blonde hair is matted with blood, her arm is twisted in an angle that's just not right, and her eyes are open and unblinking. Adaar swears she can see a hint of fear in those eyes. Her corpse is caked with blood. Dead.

Adaar can now confidently say that she knows what it feels like to have her heart broken.

Everything warps into an inky blackness that consumes herself and Dorian, who's patting the mage's shoulder and assuring her that everything is fine now. She looks at the Tevinter forlornly, thanks him, and they disappear.

When they're back in the throne room, with Alexius staring at the two mages in disbelief, Adaar grips her staff so hard that her fingernails are turning white. Clenching her teeth hard, the qunari plants her feet on the ground and swings her staff with as much strength as she can muster with her shaking hands. She hits Alexius' nose with a crack, and he falls down in shock. Adaar continues to pummel the magister, shouting a string of curses in Qunlat. The sound of blunt metal hitting bone resonates throughout the walls until Cassandra and Dorian both manage to restrain her. It's not an easy task, but when the two manage to tear the mage from the magister, Adaar finds herself too tired to try and fight back.

Adaar hugs Cassandra tight, gaining a strange look from the Seeker herself. "You're okay."

"Of course I'm alright." Cassandra says, patting the mage's back warmly, looking at Dorian questioningly. "What happened?"

"It's a long story, one I'll tell you later over a bottle of wine, if you wish." Dorian says, while rolling his shoulders and stretching his stiff muscles.

Meanwhile, Adaar is hugging Sera so tightly that the elf's legs are lifted off the ground. Relief washes over the mage like a warm shower when she hears the archer's usual carefree laugh. "Miss me, Buckles?"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Adaar says, relieved as she looks into a clear pair of caramel eyes that hold no trace of glowing red whatsoever.

In the back, Dorian is making exaggerated kissing noises as he describes the events of he and Adaar's very busy noon to Cassandra, who's giving him a very skeptical and unimpressed look.

"What happened in there, huh?" Sera asks, wiping the tears from Adaar's eyes, not unlike how the doomed version of her did.

"It's a long story," Adaar chuckles. "Let's get that mabari now. I'd feel better at night knowing a big, protective wall of muscle is sleeping with you."

"Are you talking about yourself or the dog?" Sera wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Adaar laughs. "Oh, I forgot one thing. I'll explain later. I've got your bow, darling, kick Alexius' balls."

* * *

Leliana brings Adaar, Sera, Dorian and Varric to the best mabari kennel in all of Ferelden, just as Adaar had promised: the kennel of King Alistair himself. While she's catching up with her old friend, she sends a scruffy, beared man named Enzo to show the way to the merry band of misfits.

"I can't believe you're letting mages walk around like that." Sera shudders, still not over the alliance Adaar made with the mages.

"I can't believe you're talking about me as if I'm not here." Dorian comments, chuckling to himself.

"Don't worry, Buttercup." Varric, amused with the girl's distaste for mages although she's practically dating one. A scary qunari one with horns and scars and all that, too. "Curly's watching them like a hawk watches a mouse."

"There are templars standing guard in every corner of Haven, Sera. And you can just tell them that you're my-" Adaar pauses when she recalls that Sera doesn't know or remember what happened in that doomed timeline. She deflates pathetically.

"Your what?" Sera asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dorian sniggers and Adaar playfully elbows him in the ribs.

"Alright, we're here." Enzo says, opening the door to a sturdy looking building with rows and rows of spacious cells that each hold one powerful, broad shouldered mabari hound. "They're smart dogs, they are. Direct descendants from our Queen's famous mabari that fought against the Blight. He's retired, though, just keeps the King company. I think the old dog makes the King more at ease, after the Queen disappeared and all."

"Holy shit." Varric breathes. "They're as tall as I am."

"Just walk along and see if any of the dogs take a liking to ya." Enzo says as they walk past rows of barking hounds of several sizes and colors, ranging from red to white and black to brown.

"Ah, so these are the famed Fereldan war hounds..." Dorian mutters to himself in fascination, in spite of the smell that makes his nose wrinkle. It doesn't smell as bad as he thought it would, though.

Just as they're passing another holding cell, they hear a loud bark. Enzo turns around and approaches a cell, immediately perking up. "Ah, this one."

The mabari is impressive, to say the least. A shiny coat of inky black fur covers solid slabs of built muscle. It's plainly obvious that the dog has more mass than the others. Adaar immediately decides that she likes this one.

"Damn, it's waggin' her tail so hard it's like her arse is vibrating." Sera chortles.

"I've never seen the girl so excited." Enzo chuckles, pulling a ring of keys out from his pocket. "Normally, she's the strong and silent type. Even scares the knights sometimes, that's how strong she is. She's a cut smarter than the other ones, though."

The mabari's wagging grows faster as Enzo opens the lock to the cell. Once it's open, she bolts out, nearly knocking the man down in the process. She abruptly stops once she's at Sera's feet, right as the elf is about to dodge in fear of being mauled, and rolls onto her her back with her long tongue hanging out.

"Seems she's taken a liking to ya, miss." Enzo shuts the cell as he observes the dog kicking her legs happily as Sera scratches her stomach. Once he approaches the dog, she sits up straight and Enzo opens the dog's mouth to show rows of sharp, white teeth. "Good teeth, completely healthy. Hopefully you don't mind the scar." He says, pointing towards a slanted scar across the mabari's eye. "It was an accident during a drill with one of the soldiers, the girl shrugged it off like it was nothing. She's pretty young too, big for her age. She'll grow taller than Mr. Tethras here, if you feed her right."

"Hey!" Varric says, with mock hurt. "That's offensive."

"How is she?" Adaar asks, looking at Sera hopefully. "Big and scary enough so you can keep me to yourself?"

"She's perfect." Sera grins toothily, petting the dog's head affectionately. "I'm calling her Inky."

"That's a surprise." Adaar chuckles. "I would've thought you'd name her after me."

"I _am_ naming her after you. And don't ask what it means, I ain't tellin'." Sera winks and sticks out her tongue. "Now, give her some white war paint and she'll be a dog version of you! She snickers and glances at Adaar as the dog licks her hand.

"Buttercup's got a knack for taming big, scary, creatures of mayhem." Varric smirks.

"Are you talking about the dog or the qunari?" Dorian quips.

"Hey, shut up." Sera stands up on her tip toes and ruffles Adaar's hair. "She's adorable, aren't you, girl?"

"Hey, I'm not adorable." Adaar pouts and playfully swats away Sera's hand. "Look at my badass vitaar and scars. If anything, I'm adorabloodthirsty."

And Dorian immediately decides that staying with the Inquisition will be an interesting ride.

Later, Leliana tells them that King Alistair is generous enough to lend them a carriage to ride to Haven in. It's a welcome help, seeing as the group has spent many nights sleeping uncomfortably in hard mattresses and hot tents.

Looking at the dog curled up half on her lap and half on Sera's, Adaar admits that it brings her a measure of peace to know that there's another thing between the elf and immediate danger. Anyone who thinks closing in on the archer during battle will have to deal with this beast. Under the snoring dog's heavy body and away from Varric, Dorian and Leliana's eyes, Sera strokes Adaar's hands until the larger woman falls into a dreamless sleep.

All is well, at least until Adaar slumps sideways and hits Sera's head with her horns. Hard.

* * *

Is anyone interested in meeting Adaar's former mercenary friends from the Valo-Kas? Who'd you rather see Sera be civil (for once) with? Solas, Vivienne, or Cole? Are there any characters who you want to see more?

Put your answers in the review because they WILL affect future chapters. Also, I bet you didn't expect Adaar and Sera's first kiss to go like that, lol.

Also, did anyone get the Homestuck reference?


	6. Here Comes Creepy

This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend who died in the Air Asia plane crash. May you rest in peace :'(

Happens after a time skip.

* * *

Haven is gone, along with all the soldiers and even the workers who died defending it.

It was a devastating battle that separated the greenhorn soldiers from those who have seen hell, the ones who feared death were cut down like trees and the brave and experienced lived. Some of them, anyway.

Even with Giselle and Solas' encouraging words, Adaar's resolve crumbles like the very avalanche she caused that destroyed the Inquisition's base. The pained sounds of the soldiers and mages who are being medicated doesn't help, nor does the whispering and reports of how many more are going to die from the lack of medicinal supplies and the cold. Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana fussing over their next move just makes the throbbing pain in Adaar's skull worse; the sounds of their arguing are like flies that stubbornly fly by the qunari's head just as she's about to drift off to sleep, waking her up even when all she wants to do is lie down.

With a groan, Adaar sits up limply and buries her face in her palms. The medics are done with her injuries, but her skull still throbs and she can just feel a bump growing on the side of her head, just like an extra horn that she really doesn't need. Although her wounds are bandaged, her muscles protest with every movement after the raging battle at Haven and the long walk to camp. She's got two blankets already, but she can't stop shivering and she can't feel her nose and ears. It hurts to move her fingers. She's positive that another five minutes out in that blizzard would have given her frostbite, despite her coat. The healers have done what they can with her broken ribs, but they feel so fragile that she thinks even a hug will make them snap.

Something warm and a little bit itchy lands on Adaar. She sighs and tiredly pulls the shitty blanket off her face, looking up at her generous benefactor.

Sera looks down at the mage and scowls as she brings two bottles of what seems to be booze in both hands. "Friggin' dufus, that's what you are."

"Sorry for sending you away so an avalanche won't crush you?"

"Stupid," Sera frowns, but nevertheless sits closely next to Adaar. "You should've brought me. I'd have planted an arrow in this Coryphilis' ballsack." She mutters, handing Adaar a bottle.

Adaar takes all three of the blankets strewn around her tent and wraps it around her, sighing pleasantly at the warmth mollifying her freezing fingers. "Come on in, I don't bite." She says, and Sera takes her up on her offer. The elf plops down by the qunari, who wraps the blankets over them both, relishing in the extra heat the elf provides.

"What's the occasion?" Adaar asks, reading the label on the bottle. "Antivan wine? Hardly the time for a romantic dinner, don't you think?"

"Nicked it off that shady guy you set on fire last week. Thought it would help you warm up, yeah?" Sera says, softening her tone and taking a swig, preparing to make a joke when her eyes narrow at the woman beside her. "Don't think you're getting away from this. Your stupid arse shouldn't have gone there alone. I'm just waitin' for you to get better before I give you hell. 'Cause I'm still mad, and you're stupid."

Sera feels a pang of guilt in her chest when Adaar finishes a few gulps of her wine and drops her head forlornly like there are invisible weights on her shoulders. "I'm sure you noticed. When the red templars started attacking, the first ones to fight weren't the soldiers or the mages. It was the _workers_. Just as Josephine said, they were so proud of our cause that they gave their lives for it." The qunari sighs. "They looked up to me, Sera. For the first time ever, I was looked up to. I couldn't run away after they died for me."

"They died so that you wouldn't die." Sera argues, trying hard not to snap. "You almost died back there. Hell, if I didn't go out with Inky out to look for you in that shithole blizzard, everyone would've thought you were dead! Then they would have really left, and then you'd be really dead!"

"You saved my sorry ass plenty of times in battle." Adaar reasons and takes a drink. "Can't let you have all the glory, can I?"

"Well, I don't want you to pay me back! You said it yourself, those people look up to you, don't you dare throw your life away for a kid who don't know shite like me! How am I gonna live knowin' they lost you because of me?" Sera grips the bottle in her hand hard enough to make her hand hurt, and she lets out an annoyed huff. She takes a drink, wipes the purple liquid in the corner of her mouth, and crosses her arms petulantly.

"What if I want to throw my life away for you?" Adaar asks, squeezing the elf's hand with her own. "I'm no hero, Sera, I'm just a qunari mercenary. Hell, most of the time people are too busy running away from the big scary qunari mage to even talk to me, how am I supposed to be a damn hero?"

"Shithead." Sera sighs, toning down the harshness in her voice. Adaar is surprised when the elf falls silent for a few moments. "You saw how they were all singin' that dumb song, they wouldn't be alive here if you didn't shoot a fucking avalanche over yourself and they know it. And..."

"And what?" Adaar asks, noticing the tight grip on her hand.

"You're _my_ hero, dumbass." Sera mumbles so quickly that Adaar would have missed it if she wasn't giving the archer her undivided attention. She turns her head away, but even in the darkness, Adaar can see there's a hint of red in the elf's cheeks, and she's not sure if it's because of the alcohol or the embarrassment. "I'm still pissed about you charging off at Coryphytit like that, but... Thanks for saving my life. Even if doin' that nearly squashed you under a damn mountain. Ain't no one's ever done that before." Then she looks at the Tal-Vashoth like a worried mother hen. "Don't think you can do this again, alright? If you die, I'm gonna kill you!"

The qunari resists the urge to ask how the archer's going to kill her if she's already dead.

"Well, you were my hero first." Adaar chuckles. "And I forgot to thank you, so I'll do it now. Thanks for facing down a shit load of demons and an Old God to save me. In your words, ain't no one's ever done that before." The qunari says a bit sheepishly.

Sera's head turns so quickly that Adaar nearly jumps in surprise. "So that's what happened in that damn castle!" She says, taking a few seconds to register the new information. "And that's why you've been walkin' around with a stick up your arse, gettin' me a huge guard dog, practicin' your barriers, goin' nuts whenever I get hurt and shite! You did it..." Sera halts her sentence as she realizes the implications.

"For you, yeah." Adaar grins, then cocks her head to the side when she sees the mortification and confusion on the archer's face. "Why are you so surprised? Am I that much of an asshole that the thought of me doing something nice is that shocking to you?" She laughs and ruffles the elf's short hair.

"But why'd you go through all the trouble?" Sera asks, a look of genuine cluelessness on her face.

Adaar blinks twice before she realizes that Sera is being serious. "Because I like you?"

"I know you like me," Sera says bluntly. "I just didn't know you liked me that much."

"Is it so hard to imagine?" Adaar asks with genuine curiosity.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't, dufus."

Adaar doesn't reply and instead observes quietly as a perfectly symmetrical smile creeps onto Sera's face, a large difference from her usual smirks and Cheshire cat grins. The mage can't remember the last time she saw such sensitivity on the elf's face.

The fleeting sight escapes the moment Sera feels Adaar's arm slip around her waist, and her usual smirk returns again, although more subdued. The qunari's arm is long enough that her hand ends up all the way to Sera's lap. "Getting touchy, are we?"

"What? It's cold." Adaar gives the elf a jokingly half-assed excuse.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Adaar shuts her eyes and puckers up her lips comically. Sera laughs at this and slaps the qunari's face playfully before the mage finally sits still with her eyes closed.

"Can I touch your horns?"

Adaar chuckles. "Of course."

Sera's hands reach out tentatively to the tips of the large horns that grow from the front of the qunari's head. The tips are each encased in one bronze point that curves into a sharp, pointy end. They feel cold in the chilly air, although the dull reflections of the candle light that bounce off them give them a warm look. Sera's fingers trace down to the rough, bony substance of Adaar's horns. Finally, her fingers come upon two cold iron clasps in each horn, running her thumbs over the jagged spot where a chain probably broke off long ago. She admits that she's curious about them, but she'll ask in detail later. When the clasps of iron cut off, her fingers graze horns again until they end on the front of Adaar's head. Not once does the qunari flinch, and this fact doesn't go unnoticed by the archer.

Sera's fingers move downwards onto Adaar's face, tentatively feeling the multitude of scars etched into the mage's face. Some of them she can barely feel, some of them are deep enough to make her wonder what sharp weapon caused them. It only occurs to her now that those scars occupy most of the space on the qunari's face. "Poor thing." She mutters.

_No wonder so many people are scared of you_. She thinks. But the qunari doesn't look the slightest bit scary to Sera, and she curses whoever makes Adaar feel bad about this. She curses them a hundred times. _Their loss, then, more for me. You're all mine._

"I got that big one on my cheek when I escaped from the Qun," Adaar says, without opening her eyes. Sera traces the length of the scar with her thumb, and slowly places a feather light kiss on it. The qunari gasps slightly at this, but she continues on despite the thumping in her chest. "T-The one across my eye is from an ice spell, because of my shitty barriers. And the little nicks are from shrapnel from some explosive that blew up in my face in my mercenary days. The rest is from being reckless in fights, as usual." As Sera follows suit, slowly kissing every scar on the qunari's face, she can feel Adaar's cheeks heat up with her hands. A small smirk crawls onto Adaar's face. "Do I have one on my mouth?"

"Are you asking that so I'll kiss you there?" Sera teases.

"Maybe."

"You little shit, sayin' stuff like that when a kiss on your cheek makes you blush." Sera giggles.

She doesn't complain, though. Both her hands on Adaar's cheeks, Sera slowly inches her face closer to the mage's. She tilts her head to the side to avoid bumping noses, and the qunari gulps in anticipation when she can feel Sera's breath on her, slightly scented with Antivan wine. When their lips finally connect, Adaar releases a pleasant sigh at the feeling of Sera's moist and warm lips upon her own. Adaar's arms find their way around Sera's waist and back, urging the elf to come closer, while said elf's hand is on the back of the qunari's head to deepen the kiss. Their lips move slowly but desperately as one of them realizes she's lost the other one once, and the other realizing she's almost lost the other one this very night. They both know the wine they taste in each other's mouths isn't the cause of their intoxication.

Then Sera gently pushes the qunari onto her back without breaking the kiss even once, and Adaar loudly howls in pain at the pressure on her tender ribs. Sera pulls back in astonishment and pushes herself up, sitting on the mage's hips with a regretful look.

"Aw, shite, I forgot about your ribs." Sera holds Adaar's shoulders worriedly and then flails around in panic. "Shit, shit, it didn't crack again, didn't it?"

Adaar takes a few breaths to stabilize herself, waiting until her ribcage stops throbbing in pain enough for her to speak. The pain subsides after a few seconds, and she finally manages to find her voice. "If I say yes, will you kiss it better?"

"Shithead." Sera says, the affection in her voice a stark contrast to the word she usually reserves for 'friggin' piss drinkers'. She leans down to kiss the qunari again, her hands on the ground to support her weight. They're giggling too much too kiss properly but they manage to tone it down enough to lock their lips right.

The tent flap opens.

Inky the dog rushes in with remnants of snow in her black fur, barking happily at the sight of her master. Behind her is Vivienne and Cole.

Vivienne's breathing is hard as she runs in without her headpiece on. "Darling, I thought I heard-" She looks down and her expression of surprise turns into a frown. "Oh, dear." She says, her voice oozing disapproval.

"I tried to tell her not to worry." Cole apologetically says.

"Shush, Vivi." Sera looks at the Orlesian proudly. "I'm the only one allowed to call her that now." She grins, sitting contently on the qunari's hips as if she's asserting her dominance.

Vivienne decides that she won't humor the elf, and instead looks at the qunari with so much disapproval that Adaar feels she's going to shrink. "Herah, I need you to do something about Cole."

"If he doesn't have a tent to stay in, he can stay with me." Adaar shrugs.

"What?" Both Vivienne and Sera ask simultaneously.

"That is not what I meant, Herah." Vivienne frowns. "Darling, he's a _demon_."

"He's creepy." Sera adds, for once agreeing with the Orlesian mage.

"Last time I checked, demons possess things to get out of the Fade. He's not possessing or being possessed."

"He reads people's minds. That thing's just wrong." Sera argues, crossing her arms, finally getting off to sit on the ground. Inky bolts at the chance and claims her lap as a chair.

"Look," Adaar sighs, trying to find the right words. "Our heads would be on Corypheus' wall if it wasn't for him, and I know you two have doubts, but I'm not turning away someone who saved our lives. If he lays a hand on anyone, I'll gladly offer up my ass."

"No way," Sera argues and pulls at Adaar's arm. "Your arse is _mine_, get it? I don't share."

Vivienne clicks her tongue in disapproval. "You've got a nice head on your shoulders, Herah, but I must say that I've no idea what you're thinking sometimes." She sighs. "But very well, you have never betrayed my trust." She turns back to exit, and gives the qunari one last look. "I only advise you to be careful and I will be waiting if you need my assistance. And... your dalliances with this _imp_ is going to cost you your reputation, darling, I hope you know that." She says, glaring at Sera as she leaves.

"Thank you." Cole smiles gratefully.

"No problem, Cole. I hope you're going to join this merry band of misfits." Adaar smiles wryly and looks at the frowning elf beside her. "Judging by the ominous aura, I'm guessing you want to stay here too."

"I'm not leavin', especially if _Creepy's_ gonna sleep _here_." Sera glares at the rogue. "Also, Vivi's callin' you your first name now?"

"Vivienne and I are friends. Wow, surprising, huh? And yeah, Cole's bunking with us. Yay, sleepover."

"Fine, but I'm sleepin' in your bed." Sera makes a face at Cole. "I'm not gonna toss you out to sleep in the snow, Creepy, but one wrong move and BAM! Arrow in your face."

Adaar sighs and promises herself to do some damage control later. For her own sanity's sake. It's going to be a long, long night. She gives Cole an apologetic look.

He nods in appreciation.

* * *

So, the winner is Cole. Have any ideas for how Adaar can make these two get along?

Say, if either Adaar or Sera is going to get sick, who should it be? Answer in the reviews, this will affect future chapters :)


	7. In Which Adaar Does Something Gross

Since the real plot is starting, there will be much fewer time skips from now on. Enjoy!

I got this idea from a review I got a while ago, although the reviewer probably didn't think this would happen, lol.

This chapter contains a little sexual stuff because it's SERA, and these two have spent moths dancing around each other. It's small, but I thought I'd let you know.

* * *

Adaar groggily wakes up to the pleasant feeling of lips trailing slowly up her jaw. She doesn't know what time it is, but judging from the faint sounds of grumbling and footsteps from outside the tent, it's still quite early in the morning, which basically means it's much too early for her to get out of bed.

Sleeping in isn't usually in Adaar's agenda, since she typically has a long list of activities to complete by the end of the day, such as having meetings in the war room, completing her daily training (which consists of magical training and melee training with her bladed staff), fulfilling requisitions and aimlessly wandering around doing menial tasks for people. And that's before she has to play peacemaker between Sera and Vivienne or Solas when the elf, who really has way too much time on her hands, does one of her mind-boggling pranks.

But there _is_ no war room, at the moment, and she can't possibly do any melee or physical training when her ribs are busted and her entire body is littered with cuts and bruises that are really starting to sting and ache. Nobody is obsessive enough to deal with those pesky requisitions now, but more importantly, there's a girl curled up in bed with her and Adaar definitely intends to enjoy the morning while it lasts.

When a breath ghosts over Adaar's lips, she raises her head slightly and gives her a small kiss.

It takes a few seconds for Adaar's foggy mind to register that something's not right. Sera's breath can't possibly smell like what seems to be a combination of raw meat and eggs. Second, Adaar doesn't remember Sera's lips being so _wet_, as in slobbery dog wet. Third, Sera definitely does _not_ pant enthusiastically into her face while she licks the qunari's face all over.

Adaar's eyes tear open and she comes face to face with the head of a very affectionate mabari hound who gives a happy bark as she sees her master's lover gape in shock.

_Shit_, Adaar yells in her mind. _Please don't let anyone see that, please don't let anyone see that..._

A big sneeze. The qunari fearfully turns her head to the side, and there stands Sera with her hand pressed to her face to muffle the sneeze. Luckily, the tray of bread, jerky and water the elf was carrying is already safely on the ground; it would have ended up all over the floor had the elf been carrying it while she saw _that_.

Before Adaar can open her mouth, Sera runs outside with the speed of a lightning bolt with her usual mischievous grin, leaving the qunari behind.

The mage just lies there with an expression of pure terror on her face, only snapping out when Inky gives her another lick on her face.

The first thing Adaar does when she gets up is turn away from the entrance of the tent and splash half a glass of water on her face and start scrubbing so furiously at her lips. She does this for a few seconds, every scrub harder than the previous one. Her sharp horns move dangerously in the air as she does this, not caring that her lips would probably be bruised when she's done.

"Uh... Boss?"

Adaar stops scrubbing her lips when she recognizes Iron Bull's voice. Tentatively wiping the water away from her face, the Tal-Vashoth slowly turns around and resists the urge to close her eyes in shame as she looks at Blackwall and Iron Bull, who are both staring at her as if she's just grown an extra horn in the middle of her forehead.

Sera has her arms wrapped around Bull's thick arm, her face buried into the man's bicep. Her shoulders are shaking uncontrollably.

"Bull. Blackwall." Adaar greets tensely, forcing herself to smile.

The female qunari is greeted back with two extremely disapproving glares from the two warriors.

"Lass, you and Sera here are seeing each other, eh?" Blackwall asks with a low, tentative voice.

"And I hear that you cheated on her." Bull adds, with a scowl as he clenches his frighteningly huge fists.

Sera begins to breathe raggedly. "And with that bitch too!"

Blackwall sighs and furrows his brow. "I'm disappointed in you, friend."

"And don't expect us to let you off easy." Bull frowns. "Sera's our _sister_, Boss, and no way in hell am I letting anyone to this to one of our own."

Adaar's tongue can't move. She wills it to let her talk, but she doesn't manage to find the words to explain the circumstances without making her look like some kind of sick pervert. Instead, she closes her eyes and hopes this is all a bad dream, swearing she'll never have Antivan wine before sleeping ever again.

And then Iron Bull and Blackwall's stony faces begin to crumble, but it's Sera who begins laughing first. Yes, her breaths are ragged and her face is buried in the Ben-Hassrath's shoulder, but there's good reason for that; when she turns around, she's biting her lips in an effort to keep her laughter in, and hyena-like roars of laughter escape when she opens her mouth.

Soon, that laughter is joined in by the two warriors, each laugh louder and longer than the last. Sera's face is red with laughter as she clutches her stomach, while tears are visible on the corners of the Iron Bull's shoulders. Blackwall has to hold on to his own knees to keep himself standing upright as his roaring laughter threatens to topple him over.

Adaar stares dumbly until she feels the blood rush to her cheeks. As much as she wants to retaliate with a witty comment, she can't, for once in her life.

Only then does Adaar fully register how bad the archer looks. Her skin is pasty pale, her hands are shivering, and her lips have lost their alluring pinkish tint. A few beads of cold sweat gather on Sera's forehead, but the only thing the qunari is thinking is, _Great. Now they're going to put this on my epitaph._

* * *

"Had a nice dream last night, did you?" Sera smirks as she watches Adaar bite into a chunk of bread.

Adaar swallows the lumpy piece of bread. "Yes, it involved a harem of sexy bitches. Literal bitches. I've always had a secret fetish for them. The secret is out." She drawls, trying to salvage her wounded pride with a remark.

Sera giggles and raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Admit it. You thought it was me, huh, Buckles?"

"Admit it." Adaar shoots back. "You're jealous of your own mabari."

"Don't be sassy with me when you're all blushy like one of them Chantry sisters." Sera retorts.

The mage puts her arm around Sera's waist, "So demanding." Adaar replies, leaning in to capture the elf's lips in a kiss.

But right before their lips meet, Sera turns her head and Adaar's lips come in contact with her cheek instead. The qunari raises an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" She asks. "I already brushed my teeth after I 'cheated' on you. Three times."

"You're full of shit." Sera grins and puts her finger on Adaar's lips. "I can still smell the dog slobber-" She stops mid-sentence, pulls her head back, and sneezes so hard that her lithe body jumps from the ground for a second. "Balls," Sera curses under her breath. "Why's it got to be so cold here, huh? Can't get out of the tent without my tits freezin' over."

"Can't kiss me without giving me your cold too, huh?"

"No," Sera denies a little too vehemently. "I can still smell the mutton I gave Inky last night on your breath, and I ain't kissin' you 'till after it's gone." She chuckles a bit perversely. "Don't care how tall and _phwoar_ you are."

"Didn't peg you for the denial type, Sera." Adaar ignores what the elf says as she presses the back of her hand to Sera's forehead and neck. "Usually, the denial ends _after_ two people start making out."

Sera grumbles at this and her face reddens in a moment that's quite out of character for the bouncy, straightforward archer. Adaar's eyes narrow questioningly, but she decides to ask about it later.

The qunari frowns. "You're warm. I'll get some medicine and food for you, okay? I'll just be a minute." She pulls her faded blue blanket and drapes it over Sera and begins to walk out.

Sera groans. "Fuck that, you don't-" Adaar walks out. Sera curses.

It takes a little longer than fifteen minutes for the qunari to get back, just as Sera is getting bored enough to begin humming a song to herself and contemplate running out to cause a little mischief amidst all the depression. Sera's too late, though, and it's only when she's about to escape that Adaar walks in carrying a towel in one hand and a tray of food in the other. She puts the folded towel beside the bed and puts the tray in front of Sera. A tall stack of bread, roast meat and cheese sits beside a glass of warm water and hot soup.

"I would've gotten you milk, but that damn mountain goat nearly gored me when I grabbed her tits." Adaar grins. "And don't even think about trying to escape, because today I'm showing you my girlfriend powers."

"Why do I feel like 'girlfriend powers' isn't what I think it is?" Sera mutters.

"In case you're wondering, 'girlfriend powers' is what I'm going to use to get you to stay in bed and have fun doing it."

Sera looks at the qunari and wriggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Is it sex? Tell me it's sex."

"Are you offering?" Adaar responds with a look of her own.

"Once snot's not dribbling down my damn face, yeah." Sera mutters before she begins eating the soup, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in her head. "Thanks for the chow."

"Then you'd better get well soon." Adaar smiles almost innocently.

Sera punches Adaar's shoulder lightly. "I'm gonna nail you once I stop feeling like shite."

"I'll mark it on my calendar." Adaar chuckles.

Sera eats quickly and not very silently. The mage quietly watches as the elf chews down one piece of bread in her hand and alternates that with the piece of roast mutton in the other. Adaar nervously raps her fingers against the floor. "Last night, when you found me, how long were you out in that blizzard?"

"I don't friggin' know." Sera shrugs dismissively.

"A little birdie called Josephine told me you were out for at least three hours. Without any winter gear." The mage says, noticing Sera look down in embarrassment at her words. Adaar softly laughs and puts her arm around the elf, planting a kiss on the side of the elf's head. "Bringing me breakfast? Saving my life by trudging around in a snowstorm for three hours to find me? I think I'm swooning."

"I bet you say that to all the girls." Sera nudges as she finishes her third piece of cheese.

"Nope, just you."

"Well, you did a lot more for me, yeah?" Sera mutters, holding the steaming glass of water to warm her shivering hands. "You're a keeper."

Adaar chuckles lowly and presses a few gentle kisses to the side of Sera's face, trailing down to the hinge of her jaw. "I aim to please."

"You're like a puppy, Buckles, you know that?"

"Hey," Adaar pouts. "With these badass scars and rugged good looks, I'm at least a full grown mabari."

Sera looks at the mage affectionately as she sips the last of the water in her glass. "You're a piece of shit, Buckles."

At this, Adaar gently shoves the sick girl down to her bed, mindfully considering Sera's condition. Before the city elf can react, Adaar feverishly molds their lips together as she clumsily pulls the blankets over their heads. Sera considers pushing the qunari away to keep her away from getting her cold, but the damage is done and her thoughts are being stripped from her with every insistent brush of Adaar's tongue against her lips. Once Sera lets the tongue enter her mouth, running her hands over the Tal-Vashoth's broad back, relishing the feeling of Adaar's hands starting to wander hungrily around her torso. Adaar winces at the pressure of Sera's body on her tender ribs, but she doesn't even think about stopping. The heat starts to get to both their heads as Sera's fingers begin to trail the skin underneath Adaar's shirt.

"I've mixed some things to help."

Adaar's head turns so quickly that she nearly knocks Sera's head over with her horns. Cole is standing with a mug of steaming _something_ in his hand. He doesn't look surprised or even flustered. As usual, he just seems contemplative and curious. Nevertheless, Adaar forces herself to get off Sera and clears her throat nervously as the nice, delicious heat slowly dissipates into cold awkwardness at the spirit's presence.

Sera narrows her eyes. "The fuck? Ever heard of knocking, Creepy?"

"I am sorry for the interruption." Cole says, seeing the growing blush on both women's faces. "But it's cold outside and it will make the herbs grow cold." He offers the Adaar the mug. It's filled with warm, light green water.

"Thanks, Cole." Adaar says taking a whiff of whatever it is. _Herbal medicine_, she thinks. "Whose ass did you pull this out of? I went looking for them earlier and all I found on this darn mountain is snow, rocks, and more snow."

"There's a small clearing by the lake near the bottom of the mountain." Cole says before turning around to leave. "Blood was spilled there many years ago. Every inch of soil drenched in the fallen soldiers' blood grows-... I should leave. There are many injured who need my attention."

The two watch Cole exit in silence before Sera scowls viciously. "Damn, what a mood killer."

Adaar chuckles and hands her the mug. "Go ahead."

"What? I'm not drinkin' anything _Creepy_ gets me." Sera leans away from the mug in Adaar's hand. "What if he poisoned it or something, huh?"

"Sera, come on, I wouldn't ask you to drink something if he put something like rat shit in it." Adaar sighs, pushing the mug closer. "It'll help you get better, promise." When Sera doesn't make a move, Adaar moves the mug to her lips and takes a sip before she attempts to hand it over to the stubborn elf again. "Not bad. Tastes like tea."

"Did you put it up to this?"

"No." Adaar answers, cringing at the 'it' in Sera's sentence. "And 'it', Sera? That's harsh."

Sera doesn't reply and instead takes the mug. She takes a deep breath and carefully takes a gulp. It tastes slightly bitter and herby, but the taste of peppermint buries the bitterness well. It occurs to her for a second that Cole probably put it there to make it taste better.

Adaar looks at her inquisitively. "Well? You're not writhing on the ground and frothing at the mouth, aren't you?"

"Not yet." Sera mutters, although a tiny sliver of guilt is starting to form in her gut. It only takes a few more seconds for her to finish the contents of the mug, and she can't believe she's thinking it, but it doesn't taste half bad. It even tastes a bit like tea. She reminds herself to thank the spirit later. Just a simple 'thanks' before she'll turn around and run like hell before he does his weird mind reading thing.

Adaar awkwardly coughs. "Is this the part where we awkwardly discuss our relationship?" Sera stares at her incredulously before she bursts out laughing, to Adaar's embarrassment. "Okay, that sounded a little better in my head." The qunari mutters.

"What's there to talk about?" Sera tilts her head to the side. "You and me go places, then we roll around in bed."

"Not very subtle, I see." Adaar smirks.

Sera scoffs jokingly. "This comin' from you, who was ready to jump me before Creepy ruined it?"

"Touché." Adaar chuckles.

"_Tooshay_ to you too, whatever that means." Sera mutters. Then she looks at the qunari bemusedly. "I'm more shocked _you_ were gonna go hands on with my parts."

Adaar averts her eyes in shame. "Sorry, it was crappy of me to make a move while you're feeling like shit."

Sera laughs and punches Adaar gently in the arm. "Relax, Buckles, I'm more surprised you wanna bang me with all the snot and shite. 'Sides, can't believe I'm sayin' it but I'm telling you to keep it in your pants until you're all better, yeah?" She says, planting a small kiss Adaar's jaw. "Won't feel right otherwise."

* * *

Nights in the mountain are cold and much darker, given the lack of lanterns and insulation. The scouts returned that evening to tell Leliana that they've found the stronghold Solas mentioned and the spymaster decides that they're heading there first thing tomorrow. Cole is out helping Mother Giselle tend to the injured to make sure they're able to walk to the stronghold the next day, a task that's none too easy with the sheer number of injured soldiers.

Meanwhile, Sera is sitting on her bedroll while Adaar sits across her, holding a thick, red book in her hands. The Tal-Vashoth flips the pages with practiced ease while Sera eyes her strangely.

"You're readin' me a bedtime story."

"Yes, and I specifically picked out a book that you'll enjoy very, very much." Adaar says, with a low chuckle and a sly smile.

It doesn't take a genius to see she's up to something. "What's it called?"

"Tale Of The Champion: Extended Edition." Adaar reads, face lighting up as the finally flips over to chapter twelve. "I'm skipping to the part that you'll most definitely like."

"That's Varric's book, yeah?" Sera asks, recalling the conversations Adaar and Varric had in their travels.

"Yes, but the extended part," Adaar smiles wickedly. "Is written by Captain Isabela herself."

Sera pauses and tilts her head, smiling slyly. "That's Hawke's lover, huh?" She giggles in an unashamed perversion at the mention of the pirate's name. "The sexy pirate one, yeah? Stole stuff with her once in a job. Damn, her tits..."

That gets Adaar's attention, but she figures she'll have Sera tell her all about her encounter with the captain later. It's time for her to do the talking, after all.

The qunari clears her throat as Sera watches her intently. "Isabela hands have yearned for many nights to slip off the silky red bathrobe from the Champion. When she finally does, she's met with the wonderful sight of alluring, creamy skin. Hawke's short brown hair is disheveled already, but her icy blue eyes stare pleadingly as Isabela skillfully moves-"

"You're an arsehole, Buckles." Sera smirks.

Adaar chuckles knowingly. "Whatever do you mean, Sera?"

"So you can't keep it in your pants," Sera rests her chin on her hand and purposely gives the qunari an alluring gaze. "You're doin' this to set the mood, yeah? Well, it's not workin'."

Adaar pouts and places a bookmark on the page before she sets it down, groaning with frustration.

"This is payback, Buckles." Sera grins proudly as she practically tastes Adaar's frustration in the air. "You kept teasin' for _months_ and running away when I tease back for _months_, like you're playing tag or somethin'. Well, guess what?" She leans forward until the distance between her face and Adaar's is almost nonexistent. The qunari stops breathing. "You got to kiss me yesterday but you ain't gonna fondle my parts that easy. My turn to play." She says, twirling a lock of Adaar's white hair enticingly.

Adaar's breath hitches as Sera closes the distance between them. She kisses her full of want and desire, teasing the qunari cruelly as her tongue repeatedly almost enters Adaar's warm mouth, pulling back just as the mage opens her mouth to welcome her.

Sera swears she can hear Adaar growl before the qunari desperately pulls her deeper into the kiss, and softly whimper when Sera's tongue finally comes into contact with the mage's. Sera allows her tongue a couple of brushes and strokes before she pulls back and has to stop herself from proudly smirking at the dumbfounded look on Adaar's face.

Before Adaar can complain, Sera gives her an innocent peck on the lips. "Night, Buckles." She says, winking as she pulls the blanket over herself.

Adaar wants to scream.

* * *

Alright, guys, let's talk about M rated scenes. It's bound to happen sooner or later, but I'm asking you: Do you want it explicit (story will change to M), or non-explicit (story will stay T)?

When do you want it to happen?

FYI, I'm trying to show a side of Sera that's not all jokes, being stubborn, sex, and swearing and being silly. There will be plenty of that, but I think it would be interesting to show a deeper side of her, don't you think? Think of all the fluffy possibilities.


	8. Fuck No

Thanks for the suggestions, everyone, I'll make sure to use all of them (you heard that right).

* * *

Adaar plops down ass first into the cold, untended weeds in the 'courtyard', in the very middle of the tavern and the multitude of unused and run-down buildings in Skyhold. Soldiers and mages alike scurry around in an effort to place for the injured. Her ribs still hurt but they are much better, seeing as both Vivienne and Solas are very adept healers, unlike the qunari herself. But hell, does she feel like crap; she spent the previous night with Josephine, Leliana, Cullen and Cassandra, making plans for rebuilding. By the time she finished and went back to bed to curl up, the sun had already risen.

None of the soldiers have the heart to ask her to help with setting up camp after seeing her slumped, red-eyed from her lack of sleep.

"Hey, grandma." Sera grins as she suddenly appears from the crowd. She crosses her arms smugly. "Gettin' old already?"

Adaar grins wryly. "You're not the one who nearly got squashed by an avalanche, fell into a dark ass tunnel filled with sharp stuff for me to get stabbed with, and-"

Sera takes Adaar's hand lightly, tugging it enough to make the qunari stop talking. "Well, you've got enough energy to ramble, so you've got enough energy to come with me." She says, in a tone that suggests she's on to something no good. As usual.

"If you're asking me to go back to Haven to carry out a rescue mission for your precious booze, I'm going to have to tell you to go fuck yourself." Adaar chuckles.

"You'd love to see that, yeah?" Sera smirks.

The corner of Adaar's lips twitch. Had it been anyone else, they'd think that they pissed off the mage with something they said, but Sera knows her well enough to know that she's just embarrassed but isn't showing it.

"Anyway, come on, let's poke around the place a bit, yeah?" Sera pulls Adaar's large hand harder. "Before the soldiers find 'em all and take the good stuff!"

Despite her aching muscles, Adaar simply stands up and ruffles Sera's hair. "I've read enough horror novels to know that two people walking in an abandoned anything is a horrible idea, but what the hell." She shrugs. "Lead the way."

Sera smiles enthusiastically and pulls Adaar's hand so hard that the Tal-Vashoth is sure she heard her shoulder pop.

* * *

It's been a while since they've seen any windows or cracks in the roof to shed some literal light on their little exploration. The interior of the stronghold is eerily dark. Adaar lights a fire in her hand to help them see better, the warm embers on her palm illuminating the thick clouds of dust flying around. Broken furniture such as various chairs and tables litter the seemingly endless hallways.

"Not the castle filled with loot that you expected, huh?" Adaar comments, as she steps over yet another broken chair.

"Not _yet_," Sera stubbornly presses onward, despite the various clutter she kicks around for the hell of it. "I mean, everyone knows the treasure's in the castle's knickers, not the shirt pockets."

"In other words, you want us to go deeper and get lost, like every clueless protagonist in every horror novel ever."

She's kidding, of course. She knows there's probably nothing in the stronghold but junk, but then again, the whole place looks like it was left in a hurry, and people _do_ leave valuable things when they do that. Besides, it beats the depressing sight of dying soldiers everywhere outside.

Adaar laughs lightly. "I guess it would be no fun if it doesn't make you curious and desperate before it gives you the good stuff."

Sera turns her head at the qunari and gives her a crooked grin. "You talkin' about the treasure or sex?"

"Maybe I'm talking about both." Adaar gives Sera a grin of her own.

They both chuckle at this for a few seconds, until Sera suddenly stops in her tracks. The elf narrows her eyes warily and motions for Adaar to stay quiet. Slowly, she readies her bow and fetches an arrow from her quiver and watches the corner of the hallway. "Did you hear that?" Sera whispers.

"Hear what?" Adaar asks, gripping the shaft of her staff tensely.

Then she hears it. At first, it's the sound of what seems like various clutter being knocked around from a distance. But the sounds get closer at an alarming rate, accompanied with the echoing of what sounds like more than one pair of feet running towards the corner of the hallway.

When the thing finally turns the corner, Sera pulls her bowstring to prepare a deadly shot while Adaar's staff crackles with electricity.

It heads towards Sera with breakneck speed, but the arrow never flies. The beast leaps straight for her face with powerfully thick hind legs, and begins to happily lick the elf's nose and entire face, panting happily all the while.

Adaar releases a hefty sigh as the energy in her staff fizzles out.

"Inky!" Sera pets the hound gladly, despite being knocked back by the force. "You really got to work on bein' sneaky, girl."

"Guess she does take after me, then." Adaar chuckles.

"She was out pullin' those heavy arse carts with Cullen, last time I saw." Sera giggles as the hound stands to lick her face affectionately. She gives Inky a few scratches behind her ear before the mabari's sheer weight begins to give the archer trouble keeping her balance.

Adaar kneels and gives the fine black fur on the back of Inky's head a few friendly strokes. "I guess you missed her."

Inky barks in agreement and appreciatively licks Adaar's jaw. It's the only part of her face that the mabari can reach, with the qunari's monstrous height. The hound then turns around and walks down the hallway, reaching a heavy wooden door with rusty hinges. She looks at both Adaar and Sera with an intelligence that's almost human.

"Guess she found something." Adaar comments, absentmindedly sweeping junk from out of her way with her feet.

"I knew the losers who left this place has gotta left some shiny stuff behind." Sera gives Inky an ear-to-ear grin as she pats him. "Someone's gettin' extra for dinner."

Adaar pouts pathetically. "With all the attention you're giving her, I would have sworn the dog's your lover and not poor old Buckles. Remember Buckles?"

The sight of Adaar pouting like a child amuses Sera and it shows with how the city elf giggles and gets on the tips of her toes to give the qunari's chin a small peck. "Maybe you'll keep me company in my tent later instead of bein' boring with Noodles, Leliana and Josie and then falling asleep on the war table?"

"That _does_ sound better than waking up with splinters on my face." Adaar rubs her cheek a little self-consciously, feeling the scars that have accumulated on her face throughout the years. "I don't really need it to get even more messed up."

"You really need a better qunari face paint thing, whatever that's called. And get some iron on your armor instead of leather, no hide's gonna help with the way you go all _roar_ in fights." Sera says, visualizing the image in her head. Tall, sexy Adaar with a white vitaar resembling the pattern of a 'qunari mage helmet or mask or whatever', as the elf puts it. Adaar with a gleaming chestplate, her shoulderguards emphasizing the broadness of her shoulders, complete with fine gauntlets and greaves. "Woof." Sera breathes dreamily.

At this, Adaar reminds herself to give the blacksmith a visit. It really would help her get hurt less, and it really wouldn't hurt if she could make Sera swoon in the process. "I might just do that if it makes you happy in the pants."

"You better," Sera says, while playing over the image again and again in her mind. It takes ten seconds of Adaar silently watching the elf devilishly smiling in her raunchy fantasy before she finally snaps out. Pinching Adaar's cheek, the elf motions for Adaar to lean down. When she does, Sera kisses her sweetly. "Chicks dig scars. Well, I _really_ do. Next bastard who says otherwise has got a beehive waitin' in his pillow. Doesn't mean you should get more of 'em, though."

"I don't know, Sera." Adaar smirks as she finally opens the door, it's hinges creaking noisily in the silent hallway. "I do _really_ enjoy it when you get all protective in battle."

And the door finally opens.

Sera's face drops at the sight of the room. It's a fairly small room with one lone couch in the middle and one large bookshelf on each wall. The dust makes her sneeze. "Tell me it's not more of those creepy magic books. Inky, why'd you bring us here, huh?" She looks in a mock accusatory glare at the dog. "Hell, you're really just a mini Buckles. You've even got the thing for boring magic books and all that."

The flame in Adaar's hand hovers to the top of the room, effectively lighting up the room in a warm glow. She walks over to a bookshelf and pulls out one random book. The corner of her lips curve upwards when she reads the title on the cover of the elegant red book. "On the contrary, I think you're going to love this." She says, holding up the cover for Sera to read.

The doubtful look in Sera's face instantly crumbles when she reads the fine print. "Seriously?" Her face contorts in a horrified expression. "_'The Sexual Applications of Magic'_? Who the fuck's nutty enough to even think of this shit?"

Adaar shrugs and amusedly flips through the pages of another book written in a language she can't read. "You might want to take a glance at this." She says, handing Sera the thick book.

Upon seeing it's contents, Sera breaks out into a laughter that fills the entire room. Inky tilts her head in confusion. "Are these supposed to be sex positions?"

"If I ever tried any of those, I'd probably break my back." Adaar chuckles, surveying the other bookshelves with piqued interest. She dusts the spines of the books with the back of her hand, her eyebrow raised higher with every title she reads. "Literature." She mutters.

"Boring." Sera says, drawling out the word in emphasis.

"Smutty literature."

"Still boring." Sera says dismissively. She gently hugs Adaar from behind, feeling the defined muscle of Adaar's back and stomach, even under the mage's thick coat. Although the coat just smells like regular worn leather, the archer finds comfort in the scent of Adaar's hair. The white locks' scent reminds her of the the frosty coldness of snow and the comforting warmth of fire at the same time. _Maybe it's from all the damn magic she does, _she thinks. "Doing's better than readin'."

Adaar is nicely surprised as Sera's hands begin to wander. Just yesterday, the elf was gloating about how she was going to have her 'revenge' and make her pay for how it took many months and a near annihilation from a darkspawn magister to kiss her. Of course, she was joking, but Adaar knows Sera's going to do it anyway because she likes playing games, and this is one game of teasing the qunari to madness is one that Sera's definitely been enjoying.

"I'll get you out of your damn slump, Buckles." Sera husks, as her hands begin to trail under Adaar's shirt.

_Oh,_ Adaar thinks. _That's why._ "Offering sex to make me feel better, I see. That's sweet." She says, when she feels feather light kisses on the back of her neck.

The thing is, Sera's too short to do that. And even if she was standing on a box or anything like that, she can't kiss the back of Adaar's neck when there's a curtain of hair blocking her lips.

Adaar's eyes snap open when the kisses start to move to the front of her neck. She has a feeling she knows what it is, but she can't bring herself to say it. "Sera," She turns around and looks at the elf with a look of pure, unadulterated fear. "Is there something on my neck."

"Oh, it's just a little spid-"

"Get it off." Adaar says, her shaking voice completely overriding the commanding tone of her voice. "Now!"

"Alright, alright." Sera giggles, reaching out for the furry little arachnid. "Hell, back in the alienage-"

The spider scurries away at the sight of Sera's hand, onto Adaar's chin. The qunari pales and her breathing ceases as she bites her mouth shut. Her hand begins to swat away at her own face in a futile effort to get the spider off. The arachnid merely scurries around the qunari's face, avoiding each slap accurately and urging the qunari to slap harder and faster while she begins to shake her head around violently to get it off.

Sera can see that Adaar wants to scream, but she keeps her mouth shut in fear of having the spider wander inside. The elf stares in a mixture of both bewilderment at the sight of a strong, large qunari mage flailing around and slapping her own face because of a damn spider, and fear at the sight of Adaar's long, big and sharp, iron-clad horns dangerously moving from side to side and from front to back in the air like an angry bull's.

Adaar's eyes shut in fear and she reaches for the aforementioned _The Sexual Applications of Magic_ book on the side table. When she finally finds it, she uses it to try and whack the spider but only manages to whack _herself_ with painful sounding thuds that make Sera wince. Finally, the flailing leads her into the side table. Literally. She knocks the table down and she comes down with it, falling to the dusty floor with a sickening_ thwack_ when her forehead connects with the ground.

The spider scurries off into the corner of the room somewhere.

Adaar hurriedly stands up just as Sera approaches to help her up, nearly knocking over the elf with her horns as she does so. With beads of cold sweat on her pasty pale face, Adaar clenches her fist tensely. "I need to shower." She shakily says.

Sera smirks and finally allows herself to snicker. "Spiders, Buckles? Big, tough Buckles is scared shitless of an itty bitty spider?"

"That," Adaar points to the corner of the room, where the spider skitters around on the wall innocently. "Is not an 'itty bitty spider'."

Sera laughs and begins to wriggle her fingers on Adaar's face and neck. "Skitter skitter skitter!"

"Sera, stop it!" Adaar shouts, grabbing the elf's wrists forcefully. "I think I hear something."

Sera's about to make a retort and start prying Adaar's hands off, but then she hears something. Something that sounds like skittering.

Adaar's face goes impossibly pales and the sweat begins to roll down her cheeks. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"What, giant spiders?" Sera waves her hand dismissively and heads for the door.

"Sera, no!" Adaar whisper-shouts and stamps her foot petulantly. "Sometimes they come to abandoned pla-"

"Relax, babe." Sera winks confidently and reaches for the door. "Lived in the shittiest alienage in Ferelden. Didn't even have water that didn't have piss in it or bread without big arse bugs in it. Spiders ain't the worst thing there."

Adaar makes a run to stop Sera, but it's too late; the elf opens the door wide, and there's a literal giant spider there, as tall as Inky and as wide as Iron Bull.

Sera hears a high pitched scream and wonders who it was that could scream that high, when she realizes that it's coming from Adaar.

The spider is big, brown, and hairy, looking at Sera with eight big, angry eyes. It bares it's front legs up, it's large fangs facing outwards sinisterly.

In one fluid motion, Sera leaps back and releases an arrow that slices through the air and embeds itself into the very middle of the spider's head. The beast's limbs flail in agony as Inky growls and tackles it right into the door, where the mabari swiftly and viciously tears into the wounded spider that spasms violently before it's legs go stiff and curl up.

Adaar hasn't stopped screaming the whole time.

Both Inky and Sera stare at her incredulously until the qunari's breath finally runs out and her screams are reduced to mere ragged breathing.

"Shit, Shit, Shit." Adaar swears, beginning to pace around the room with shaky hands that clutch her head tightly. "There's got to be more of them. The entire brood! Fuck."

She nervously grabs Sera's shoulders hard, her eyes darting around the room skittishly as her jaw quivers in horror. "We have to get out of here. Now." She says, heading towards the door.

She stops as she sees the mangled giant spider squished against the wooden door. She turns around and pleadingly looks at her lover. "Please get it out of the way."

* * *

Finally, after banging on the door and yelling obscenities for a whole minute, the door opens and Adaar falls face first onto the stairs leading to the outside. The scouts and Harding wince as they watch the Herald unceremoniously roll down the stairs.

Sera and Inky follow closely behind, both of them breathing hard.

Adaar aims her hand at the closed door and fires a cone of ice that effectively seals the door shut. She knows that spiders can't open doors, but she has to be vigilant, she reasons to herself.

"Um, are you okay?" Harding asks, raising her eyebrow awkwardly. "I made an announcement to not go in there, half an hour ago, I think. There's a giant spider infestation and they've laid eggs in there."

Adaar wobbles to her feet, feeling a little light in the head. "I know, Harding. I know."

"Oh, and Commander Cullen asked to see you. He says it's important."

"Okay." She stiffly replies.

"You're looking kind of... pale." Harding says, a little worry in her face. "Are you sick?"

"No, um, I'll just go see Cullen now." Adaar says, hurriedly walking up to Sera and shakily kissing her forehead. "I'll come see you afterwards."

Adaar scurries away while the scouts, including Harding, watch her leave and nearly trip on a branch in her hurry to see the commander.

And then the scouts turn to Sera, undoubtedly curious about the kiss, and the elf can feel the heat in her stomach slowly make its way towards her face. But she puts on her usual shit-eating grin to cover this up. "I got a nice catch, huh?"

* * *

It's getting dark and Adaar hasn't come to see her yet. She puts her mug down and tells Harding and two other scouts that they'll drink together again some other time. She sets off to find a certain qunari so they can make out and _probably_ so she can tease her a bit about the spiders.

When she walks into Adaar's tent, she's greeted by a very nice view.

Adaar has her back turned to her. The mage is sitting in a wooden tub filled with steaming water, her white hair wet and plastered to her broad, broad back. Sera's eyes light up at the sight of scars on the qunari's back, another evidence of her reckless fighting. The water rolls down the qunari's back enticingly as it moves in accord to her breathing.

"You get the spider guts off yet?" Sera asks, slowly walking towards the mage. She leans down and wraps her arms around Adaar's bare body and places an affectionate kiss to her shoulder. She kisses her way to her earlobe, sensually whispering, "Or you wanna continue where we left off, hm?"

"Sera." Adaar says flatly. She squeezes the elf's hand tensely. "They're going to make me the Inquisitor."

* * *

Okay, based on the reviews, basically everyone wanted M rated scenes. So, should I put them here or put them in a separate story? It's your call :)

Who wants Woof-worthy mage-warrior armor for Adaar? Tell me in the reviews ;)


	9. Crack Goes The Chair

Just two hours after I posted the last chapter, the exact same thing that happened to Adaar happened to me. Except it was a cockroach instead of a spider.

I'm going to drown my house in insecticides. FML.

* * *

The voices from outside the tent are muffled, but Sera can still hear them.

"Did that elf really go inside the Herald's tent?"

"I hear they're seeing each other."

"What? The Herald shouldn't be with a thief. A really rude one too."

More voices pour in from all around, but Sera just curses and blocks them out.

The steam from the hot water in the wooden tub fogs up the tent, the touch of Sera's hands to Adaar's back warming warming her fingers cozily. Sera tells herself for the fiftieth time since that morning to invest in a pair of gloves and warmer clothes. Gloves are annoying to shoot arrows with, but freezing her fingers off isn't any better, she decides.

Adaar's wide back rises and falls slowly as she tries to breathe calmly, despite the rapid sinking of her stomach as she says the word 'Inquisitor'.

"They want me to lead them?" Adaar groans lowly and buries her wet face in her large hands. Even then, she can feel the Anchor's spark inside her left palm, fizzling inside like some twisted magic, reminding her that it's still there and it's getting stronger, even after Corypheus tried to pry it off and failed in doing so.

_Damn, that hurt_. Adaar shudders, still feeling the phantom throbbing in her palm after it was nearly torn from her very being. It felt like Corypheus was trying to sever a limb from her soul and it hurt all the way from her palm, to her brain, and to every single nerve in her body.

Now it's fizzles in and out in her hand, so much destructive power that's triggered by only a wave of her hand. Although it gives her a measure of security to know that only she alone has this potentially calamitous ability, she slowly removes the hand from her face and stares. It's quite terrifying to know how this ability is what caused the unmarked graves of those who died defending the so called 'Herald of Andraste'.

"An entire army marching at my command, huh? With a throne and a big bedroom and all that." Adaar dryly chuckles.

"So you'll be the big hat now?" Sera brushes away a few strands of wet white hair from Adaar's cheek. "My job's safe then. Sleep with the top dog, get away with anythin'?" She tilts her head hopefully.

Adaar turns her head curiously, unfazed by her current naked state. The steam and water covers the 'good stuff' well, as Sera would put it. "And you're okay with me being one of the 'big people'?"

"Well, not if you're gonna be all stupid and shove your cod around." Sera scowls and picks up a bar of soap from the side of the tub. She holds it up to her nose and smells it, inhaling a vaguely milky scent mixed with a hint of vanilla. "Need some help, Buckles?"

Adaar nods and releases a contented sigh as Sera begins to soap her back with slow, circular motions. "If I become Inquisitor, I would probably have a lot of blood on my hands."

"As long as it's Coryphyshit's dangle-bag you're kicking, you can bet he's gonna get all my arrow in all his balls. All of 'em." Sera shrugs as her hands run over hard, taut back muscles that seem much too tense to be good. She reminds herself to get some of those nice smelling massage oils to take care of that. "What, you think you can't handle it?"

Adaar's muscles tense and her reflect the ounce of pain she feels every time she looks back to her confrontation with Corypheus as her fists tighten under the hot water. "Haven was a big blow."

"Thought we already talked about this, yeah? Big, crazy Coryphilis with a bunch of druggie muscleheads and a friggin' dragon. Sucker punched us, he did, but that ain't happening again." Sera says, as she splashes warm water on Adaar's back. The water trickles down enticingly down the bare back, wide and muscular from years of mercenary work and scarred from even more years of shitty barriers and healing. Sera takes the time to enjoy the view.

Adaar chuckles in response. "It's a lot of responsibility, Sera. I could end up like those nobles you hate so much."

Sera drops the soap in the water. Without a word, she walks around to Adaar's front, where the qunari pulls up her knees to conceal her breasts. The elf kneels down and looks at a pair of forest green eyes, wiping away the wet hair that sticks to Adaar's forehead.

"Sera?" Adaar asks inquisitively.

"Buckles." Sera simply says. "I'm not gonna stand for any butt on that eyeball throne except if it's your arse sitting on it. Your arse is nice, your head is too. I don't want some gold-grubbin' prick on that chair. I know what I said about how scary the green glowy thing and all the magic is, but fact is that we choose you."

"We?" Adaar raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, me and the soldiers and Cassandra and everyone else." Sera says, affectionately stroking the mage's wet cheek. "None of us said it, see, but there's that _oomph _in their eyes when they see you, yeah? Not because of the stupid Herald thing, but 'cause you stood out there with the biggest balls we've ever seen, and gave Coryphallus a big fat slap on the face with your dick. For us." Softly, she says, "I choose you."

Adaar sighs in relief, a relieved sigh on her worn out face. "I thought you'd break up with me if I was a mage _and_ one of the 'big people'."

"What?" Sera snorts and waves her hand dismissively that the idea. "Me? Break up with you?" She giggles as if Adaar had just said that nugs could fly.

"I've got no score to settle with _mages_, Buckles. Solas and Vivi both have broomsticks up their poopers, but you and Dorian's fine." She then runs her eyes down the contours of Adaar's muscled torso, partially hidden by the water. She likes what she sees. "You're _more_ than fine." She smirks. "I've got a problem with magic, 'cause it's scary and explosive and makes people stupid. And you becoming this Inquisitor thing's fine, so long as you don't act all noble-y and start stompin' people's toes."

It takes time for Adaar to process Sera's words of approval. "So no, I'm not breakin' up with you unless you do something _really_ stupid." The archer says, giving Adaar a comfortingly reassuring kiss on her lips.

"Damn," Adaar says between the movement of lips. "I guess I'd better not let you down, hm?"

"You better not." Sera says, giggling into the kiss. Her lips move slowly and soothingly against Adaar's and the Tal-Vashoth can feel her stiff muscles begin to relax with every one of Sera's warm breaths that slips past her lips.

When they part, Sera leans her forehead against Adaar's, and gives her one last peck. "Guess if you're the one barking orders around, my job is safe, yeah? I'd just bed you to get myself out of trouble."

Adaar chuckles, although her chest thumped faster at that last sentence. "In that case, I'll make sure to catch you the next time you hang Cassandra's undies on the flag."

* * *

In the crowded yard, it takes ages for Adaar to finally find Leliana, who's gathered around a flimsy looking table. Her people are gathered in a circle around the table, undoubtedly discussing her next moves for her spies and network of secrets.

"You are dismissed." Leliana says, after which the scouts respectfully nod and scatter away individually.

"Busy, aren't we?" Adaar asks, walking towards the former Chantry sister and placing both her hands on the rough wooden table.

"Herah," Leliana gives the qunari a tired smile. "Working hard or hardly working?"

"The latter." Adaar responds, wryly grinning. "But I'm hoping to change that soon. You said there's going to be a ceremony to officially make me the Inquisitor?"

"Yes, that's true." Leliana nods, sensing the tone of voice people usually use when they want something.

"I'm hoping to make some improvements to myself before that happens." Adaar says, looking straight into the spymaster's eyes. "I'm thinking some new armor, a new staff, and some trainers, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't," Leliana says, the gears turning in her head. "I know some very good blacksmiths, and there's this dwarven enchanter I know who'd definitely be up to the task." She chuckles to herself. She hasn't seen Dagna in a long time and she wonders how the excitable dwarf is doing.

"And the trainers?"

"What kind?"

Sera and her other companions have always chided her to stop rushing into battle. She knows her armor is too light and that she'll be a prime target, but even the slightest cut on Blackwall's cheek or pained noise Bull hisses can send her bolting to the front lines. When it's Sera who gets cornered or hurt, she drops all her defenses and goes all out, unwisely and carelessly attacking at close range with a combination of both magic and her bladed staff. Thankfully, Sera's nimble and quick enough to avoid situations like that, or else Adaar would surely be in a casket and definitely not wandering around Skyhold like a mouse in a maze.

She usually ends up on a stretcher afterwards, to Sera and everyone else's worry. Dorian once joked that she's not a very good mage, given her terrible habit.

But given better barriers and better melee capabilities, she could be deadly at close range. Adaar's mind flickers back to Redcliffe, back to the dying red glow in Cassandra and Leliana's eyes. The dying red glow in _Sera's_ eyes, cracked skin, all skin and bones. She thinks back to Haven, cornered by Corypheus and his dragon, piles of mangled corpses littering the small but lovely place.

The choice is clear, really.

"Knight-Enchanter." Adaar says, firmly.

Leliana nods approvingly. "Good choice, Herah."

* * *

By the time Adaar trudges back to camp, it's already dark. She lowers her head and flips open her tent flap, eager to finally sit down and rest her aching limbs. After her stunt with Sera and the spiders in the hold and having to stand still for an ungodly amount of time to give the blacksmith her measurements, the qunari is fairly sure she's ready to collapse on the spot.

She grumbles, exhausted, and proceeds to sit on the much-too-small chair which seems ready to snap under her weight. She dips her quill in a container of ink and begins writing on a blank piece of paper, her head propped up on her hand as her elbow digs into the splintered wood of the old table.

She feels something on her neck and jumps, at the same time turning her head. A shard of ice stands ready in her palm, ready to strike out at the intruder.

Instead, her horns hit something with a painful-sounding _thunk_.

A hiss of pain. "Shit!"

Adaar's jaw clenches in guilt as she turns around and finds Sera on the ground, clutching her forehead painfully. Droplets of blood drip through her fingers, seeping through the tan brown of the tent floor. On her face is grimace that shows more shock than pain.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Adaar says, quickly standing up with a look of worry. The flimsy chair is knocked over as she makes her way to her end table, grabbing a ratty old handkerchief.

"Shite, Buckles, ever thought of stabbin' people with those?" Sera mutters grumpily as Adaar hurriedly wipes away the drops of blood dripping down all the way from the elf's cut and to her chin.

"S-Sorry." Adaar replies, uncharacteristically unable to pull out a quip or two from her head. She brushes away Sera's uneven bangs, closely surveying the wound. It's dark red with blood that's slowly flowing out, wide and torn. "It's pretty deep, but I think I can close it."

Sera gives Adaar a fearful glare. "What, I thought you couldn't do shit with needles and threads."

Adaar gives Sera an exaggeratedly insulted look. "My healing isn't _that_ bad now, Sera. I'm pretty sure Vivienne's given up on me and I _know_ Solas has been getting headaches every time I bother him to teach me, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Someone's got to patch up your scrapes, after all."

"Heh," Sera grins, a small wince at the stinging on her forehead. "Gettin' jealous of Dorian going all hands on, huh?"

"No, I actually just want an excuse to get _my_ hands on _you_." Adaar bluntly says, an unabashed smirk on her face. Her hand hovers over the tear, a warm glow nicely starting to close it ever so slowly. "That, and you always look like you're drinking bad milk whenever Solas or Vivienne even goes near you."

"That's why you've been nerding out with Egghead and Vivi, all alone with 'em in the library?"

Adaar nods as she continues the spell, noticing the growing flush on Sera's face. The mage smirks and decides to prod a little further. "I don't like seeing my girlfriend hurt."

"That's... sweet." Sera curtly says, feeling her cheeks warm as Adaar halts the spell and gives her forehead a chaste kiss.

"You're weird." Adaar whispers when she briefly connects her lips with Sera's. "People usually blush when things go all hot and steamy." She sits down and smiles proudly at the blush on Sera's face. "I've seen the looks, the blushes when I give you little presents and when I kissed your in front of the soldiers."

"Shut up." Sera lightly shoves the qunari, standing up and approaching the table with her back turned. "Takin' care of me when I'm sick, gettin' Solas to patch my scrapes up, kissing me in front of the soldiers. You're killing me with all this nice you've been doing."

"I only kissed your forehead, Sera." Adaar chuckles lightly.

Sera forcefully turns around with a rare look of timidity. She balls her fists nervously as she avoids Adaar's eyes. "Yeah, but now they know we're _together_ together, y'know?"

"So... you want us to be a secret?" Adaar asks, disappointedly slumping her shoulders.

"Fuck, no," Sera immediately says upon seeing Adaar's deflating figure. "I just didn't think you'd want everyone to know we sleep together, yeah?"

"Sleeping together, yes, but not having sex, unfortunately." Adaar remarks, although she stands up and reassuringly puts a large hand on Sera's shoulder. "And why wouldn't I want people to know I'm taken, and by you, no less?"

Sera snorts derisively and once again turns her back to avoid the qunari's gaze, shaking off the large hand in the process. "You know I piss off people. They talk 'bout how a thief ain't even supposed to be in this place, and the holy _Herald_," Sera says the word with absolute disdain. "Shouldn't be sharin' her bed with a broke elf who lives in a shitty tavern." She begins to pace around the tent, her voice going higher and louder. "So yeah, maybe you'd wanna keep it a dirty little secret, buttering me up real nice, a prick city elf who hasn't got two gold coins to rub together since I spend all the coin I stole on arrows, food and drinks."

"Whoa, there." Adaar holds up her hands and shakes her head. She walks over to Sera, who still has her back facing her, and wraps her arms around the elf without hesitation. She feels Sera squirm in embarrassment, but she doesn't let go. "Well, I like you. A lot. Whoever doesn't agree with me probably forgot about how this 'no good thief' is one of the reasons why we've got enough coin to feed everyone." She says, pressing a small kiss to Sera's ear. It quickly turns red at the affectionate touch, making the Tal-Vashoth swell with delight. "You're too good for me to keep this a secret."

"Well, I'm steppin' up my game." Sera mutters as Adaar slowly picks her up and sits on the dangerously flimsy chair. "I'm not gonna be _that _girlfriend who's too shitty to keep up."

Adaar gently lets Sera down on her lap and picks up the quill again, continuing the letter. Her other hand strokes her lover's back fondly as a pair of arms wrap around her neck and a pair of lips meet her jaw. "You don't care about what people say, Sera. I don't too, so you can stop worrying about me caring about what they're saying about you."

Sera grumbles in agreement as she continues pressing light kisses along the side of Adaar's face, making the qunari release a small and joyful chuckle. "When I kissed your neck earlier, you thought it was a spider, didn't you?" She asks, smirking.

Adaar coughs awkwardly. "Maybe."

"That's cute. Big, strong Buckles is scared of an itty bitty spider."

"I would avoid kissing my neck without warning me first next time, if I were you."

Sera turns her head curiously at the letter on the table. "What are you writing?"

"Oh, it's a letter to my old mercenary group." Adaar replies, nervously fidgeting with the quill. "I've been giving them odd jobs lately, but they're... coming to visit."

"Do they have big, strong qunari women like you?" Sera asks, suggestively wriggling her eyebrows.

"Yes. But none of them are as good looking as I am." Adaar says, puffing up her chest proudly. "Besides, if any of them even try to grab your ass, they're going to have an icicle up theirs. I don't care if they're like family."

"Might be worth it to try, get you all jealous and grabby." Sera grins, pulling at Adaar's collar.

"Don't you dare." Adaar softly laughs, before she leans in for a kiss.

And then the flimsy chair gives way with a loud crack. Somewhere from across the camp, Cole wonders where the loud string of curses came from.

* * *

Are you ready, guys? This is the last T rated chapter.

THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL START OUR VOYAGE TO M RATED STUFF. ARE YOU READY?


	10. Pleasant Dreams

ON WITH THE M GUYS. From this point on, the story will get increasingly NSFW until the glorious smut happens ;)

**Sorry for reposting, but I thought you guys would want to see the little present I have waiting for you at the bottom of this page ;). Since you guys have supported me a lot throughout these 10 chapters, I thought it would only be fair.**

* * *

"Buckles..."

Everything feels hazy. Adaar would tell herself that it's all a dream, except it's all too real and all too good to be one.

She's in her bed, in her new room in the highest point of Skyhold. The curtains are drawn shut, effectively blocking out any sunlight from outside, but somehow she knows that it's a pleasant, sunny morning that she's going to spend in the best way possible.

Sera's arms are alluringly draped around her shoulders. The elf, clad only in a brassiere and a pair of panties made from the finest red Orlesian silks, straddles Adaar's hips with a tempered hunger in her eyes that sends a shiver all the way down from the mage's spine to her loins.

The wood in the fireplace crackles with flame, coating the room in a warm orange glow. The light flatters Sera's curves very nicely; it highlights the definition of her bow-strengthened arms and shoulders, the flat and muscled stomach, and the cleavage that's delightfully close to Adaar's face. It occurs to the qunari that only those silks are keeping her from the creamy skin beneath, the skin that she wants to feel with more and more fervor as she watches Sera's breasts rise and fall with every slow breath she takes.

Without their eyes ever breaking contact, Sera's hand reaches behind her and unclasps her bra with one deliberately slow, practiced movement. Her other hand slowly guides Adaar's quivering hand up her toned stomach to the flesh of her breasts, under the fabric that's just one flick away from showing Adaar exactly she wants to see.

Adaar's breath hitches and her heart begins to thump in her chest as she begins to tentatively knead the soft mound between her fingers. She may not be able to feast her eyes just yet on Sera's bare flesh, but touching is just as good, she decides. Sera's hand slowly drags Adaar's other hand over the skin of her abdomen until they reach her panties. The tips of the large, long fingers slip under the smooth silk of her panties and onto the velvety skin that's painfully close to Sera's wet center.

But then Sera stops. She leans forward, her lips grazing Adaar's earlobe, letting out a hot breath that sets Adaar's conscious aflame with lust.

"Let me in, Buckles." She husks.

Adaar smiles warmly. "Nice try. Not."

Sera chuckles and removes herself from Adaar's hold. Long, spiral horns grow on her head, curving inside as her skin turns into an otherworldly purple. Caramel eyes turn to sinful magenta and her lithe body morphs into a taller, curvier figure.

"I'll be back." The desire demon smiles wickedly, and starts to fade.

And Adaar wakes up. Of course, she's not in a comfortable bed with a warm fire. Sera's not draped over her, daring her to stick her hands down her pants. Instead, she's in her tent, sleeping in a painfully hard mattress, lying on her side to stop her horns from giving her a bad crick in the neck after a night's sleep, and Sera is snoring slightly as she buries her face in Adaar's collarbone. She's wearing a ratty old shirt and baggy pants. No sexy Orlesian lingerie in sight.

But that still doesn't cool the heat in Adaar's pants.

_Damn demons_. She curses in her head. Sighing disappointedly, she runs her fingers over the definitely not silky fabric of Sera's old shirt, stopping herself when she realizes she doesn't feel anything beneath it.

Adaar's breath catches. _She's not wearing a bra._

"Nice dream, Buckles?"

Adaar chuckles almost pathetically and gives Sera's forehead a chaste kiss. "You can say that."

"Was it a sexy dream?" Sera teasingly asks, raising her head.

Anyone else would call it a bedhead, but Adaar's current state insists that even Sera's hilariously messy hair is instead a case of really hot, mussed up sex hair. She considers shaking her head to shed those thoughts off, knowing that her train of thought will probably not end very well.

It's the day she'll officially become the Inquisitor, after all, and she shouldn't be late. Or get caught with her hand down her pants, or Sera's.

But Adaar forces a calm smile. "What gave me away?"

"You were bein' all gropey and mutterin' in your sleep. Touching my tits and all." Sera says, with a self-satisfied smirk. "Must've been a nice dream, yeah?"

Adaar blushes and wisely decides not to tell Sera about the desire demon. "Of course. I'm disappointed that I woke up, in fact." She says, managing to force herself to leave the mattress.

She yawns and stretches and leaves the tent without a word, muscling the willpower to prevent herself from turning around and attempting to find out if she can go further than she did in her dream.

She forces herself to think of something disgusting. Nothing comes up, and she groans.

Maybe no one will notice if she has a little time to herself in the bathroom.

* * *

Sera is Sera, so she doesn't even bother knocking before she walks into the room like she owns the place. She arrives just in time to see Adaar's figure behind a conveniently placed curtain, sitting on a chair, doing something to her face.

"Come to give me a pep talk?" Adaar turns around and gives Sera a nervous smile that's rarely ever seen on her face. Her face is decorated with her half finished bone-white vitaar.

Sera approaches Adaar's spot impatiently, excitedly grinning. "Heard from Josie that you got some fancy pants smithy to whip up somethin' special."

"Stop right there."

Sera frowns. "What?"

"Stop right there." Adaar turns back to the mirror and continues applying her vitaar. Sera can hear the giddiness in her voice. "I want to see your reaction and savor it."

"This better be good." Sera crosses her arms impatiently, although she can't help the grin that's slowly growing in width on her face.

"Oh, trust me, you won't be able to resist my roguish charms when you see this." Adaar chuckles, standing up. Sera can see the silhouette of the qunari fixing her clothes on the mirror and tidying her hair.

Sera taps her foot in anticipation. "Hurry it up, already!"

Adaar smirks at the elf's impatience and brings the curtain to the side with a pull of the hand. "So impatient, are we?"

Sera can't answer.

The dark brown leather of Adaar's long coat blocks the light from the other side of the curtain, but when the Tal-Vashoth steps forward into the natural light by the window, Sera finds herself absolutely speechless.

Adaar is dressed a dark brown leather coat that's held in place by a wide, darker brown belt around her hips that's accented by a pair of black pants that disappear underneath her greaves. Her feet aren't the only parts clad in metal; her shoulders, arms, and chest are clad in a matching set of shoulder-pads, gauntlets, and chest plate that are all made of well-forged metals that fit her coat very nicely. The gauntlets' fingers end in pointed tips, combining with the long dark coat and the bone-white vitaar to create quite the foreboding image.

Sera once saw a qunari mage once, during a visit to Kirkwall. His horns had been cut off and his mouth had been sewn shut, his face concealed by a bronze mask. The archer can't deny the resemblance of the patterns on Adaar's vitaar with the Saarebas' mask.

Adaar's tall, even by qunari standards, but she looks even bigger now. The new metals adorning her armor do a terrific job of making her look that much more imposing, and Sera can't shake off how the shoulder-pads bring out the broadness of the mage's shoulders. Underneath the vitaar, Sera can still make out the slight indents of Adaar's various facial scars.

As if that's not enough, the combination of the dark colors of her armor and and the bone white of her vitaar allows Adaar's striking forest green eyes to stand out.

Any normal person would find the sight quite intimidating. An incredibly tall qunari mage, Knight-Enchanter in training, with armor that seems to fit a warrior more than a mage. The hand that can manipulate the Fade and the scars from years of rough battles. But Sera, although surprised, isn't the least bit alarmed by how absolutely turned on she is.

Wide, strong, tall, and scarred is exactly her type.

Sera realizes that she's probably making a hilarious face because Adaar's smirking in a way that shows she's very satisfied with her reaction.

"Sorry, I know the scars drive you wild, but they really hurt and I'd prefer not to get some more." Adaar inwardly chuckles. She confidently walks up to Sera and uses her two fingers to tilt up the archer's jaw, which is opened nearly to the point of being unhinged. "I guess you really like women in heavy armor this much, eh?"

Sera's brain goes blank. She whistles as she looks Adaar down from top to bottom with a hazy-eyed gaze. "Woof." She husks, her feet guiding her closer to her object of affection, eyes darkened with lust.

That one word goes straight to Adaar's pants.

Despite her mind quickly spiraling into the gutter, Adaar proudly smiles at the attention. "I was hoping I'd get that reaction from you."

Sera motions for Adaar to get down to her level. "You tryin' to get me to bed, Buckles? 'Cause it's working." She lowly chuckles as Adaar leans down to give her a slow kiss. "It's workin' real fine."

Adaar merely smiles mischievously into the kiss as she leans down, gently pulling the elf closer as their lips move together with unrestrained desire. A low hum of approval escapes Adaar's throat as the tip of Sera's tongue grazes her lower lip, seeking an entrance that she's been craving for months and months of pent up passion.

With surprising strength, Sera manages to push Adaar towards the vanity table where she previously applied her vitaar. The qunari wastes no time in reversing their positions, hoisting Sera up onto the sturdy wooden table to make their difference in height less of a nuisance. Sera eagerly greets Adaar's tongue with her own as Adaar parts her legs and pushes her farther onto the table.

Knock. Knock.

A male voice. "Herald, Commander Cullen and Seeker Pentaghast has asked me to fetch you."

Adaar groans. "Tell them I'm coming. Thank you."

"Very well, Herald."

A pleasant silence fills the room as the soldier's footsteps fade away.

"So I'm the big boss' girl, yeah?" Sera giggles, speaking in a low voice like she's whispering a well-kept secret.

"You'd better not start calling me Inky, or else we'll have problems." Adaar chuckles, giving Sera's lips a quick peck.

"Hey, can I get a raise after this?"

Adaar grins devilishly. "Only in exchange for more sexual favors than you can count."

Sera presses her lips to Adaar's slowly and intently. When she parts their lips, she gives the qunari a strikingly honest look. "I'll do that for free."

"I'll be waiting after the ceremony, then." Adaar grins, barely able to hide the glee in her voice. She raises her hand and cups Sera's breast, giving it a good squeeze. She regrets putting on her gauntlets; feeling the flesh with her bare hands would have been much more preferable. She looks straight into Sera's eyes. "Just sampling the goods." She smiles innocuously.

"Your room's done, yeah? You're sleepin' there tonight?"

"Now that you mention it, yes." Adaar chuckles. She gives Sera a small yet promising kiss. "Join me?"

Sera claps her hands together and snickers. "Woo! Sex tonight!"

It takes everything Adaar has to not push Sera back up against the table.

* * *

"Today, we are not here to choose a leader, for we already have one." Cassandra says, a hint of pride and admiration in her controlled voice. "The one who has already been leading it in all but name. The one who has stood bravely for us against all odds."

The crowd stirs, the sounds accompanied only by the small clinks of Adaar's greaves as she makes her way up the stone stairs. Only Cassandra and Leliana are close enough to notice her trembling hands and the nervous flicker in her eyes.

Adaar sends them both a worried glance, as if asking for help, at which Cassandra responds with a small nod and Leliana gives her a slight reassuring smile.

Adaar takes a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. She tries to speak, but her tongue is numb and stiff.

The silence is crippling.

"A cause is nothing without a purpose to unite it," Adaar finally manages to speak. "For a time, we stood in the dark, but now we have found our enemy, and his name is Corypheus. You call me your Herald, but I wish to be more than that." She holds her head high and walks confidently down the stairs, meeting every pair of eyes she sees with her own. "I stand here as a member of the Inquisition. We are soldiers, mages, thieves, ambassadors, templars, mercenaries, and many more. But we are also comrades, siblings, lovers, and parents as well." She walks past many faces, all of them gazing up at her in awe.

"We gather here, the brightest of our generation, united under a single banner, standing on the sacrifices of our fallen brothers and sisters." She stamps her staff down on the ground. "From this day onwards, we stand together." She plants her feet firmly on the ground. "Whoever we were before, we are now the Inquisition!"

The crowd applauds.

"Commander," Cassandra turns to Cullen. "Will they follow?"

Cullen faces the soldiers, the servants, the mages, everyone. "Inquisition, will you follow?" He raises his voice.

The crowd erupts in a deafening cheer.

Cullen makes his way up onto the platform, where his hand settles on the hilt of his sword. "Will you fight?"

His question is replied with an enthusiastic applaud.

"Will we triumph?" He asks, his hold on his sword's hilt growing stronger.

The applaud grows louder.

"Then it has been chosen," Cullen unsheathes his sword and raises it high above his head. "You leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!"

Sera doesn't know how Adaar manages to do it, but the qunari's eyes meets hers even in the clamor of the crowd. She makes her way over slowly, accepting congratulations and shaking hands. But her eyes never leave Sera's.

It only occurs to Sera now that this is her lover standing there, tall and proud, the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor who had sparked the loyalty of their forces by facing down a darkspawn magister for them. For her.

Sera's heart swells so big she feels like it's going to burst out, as cliche as it may sound.

It's clear in Adaar's head. She'll walk up to Sera, sweep her off her feet in a searing kiss, then carry her up to her new room and make her purr. The grin on Adaar's face widens as she closes the gap between them, but it soon disappears when Cassandra pulls her off to the side and drags her away.

* * *

The soldiers gather around the opened box. A foul stench fills Adaar's nostrils as the soldiers carry away the bloody dwarf's body away.

"It arrived just after the ceremony." Cassandra tells her.

She wrinkles her nose. That dwarf had been in the box for quite a while.

The crowd gathers around the box, although they keep their distance as they whisper amongst themselves. Cullen dismisses them after he sends a soldier to fetch Leliana, but it does nothing to defuse the tension.

When Inky begins to frantically bark at the box, Sera pinches her nose as she tentatively picks up a neat scrap of paper, strategically placed under it's lid to avoid being soiled by the blood.

"_Sleeping your way to the top?"_

* * *

**Ten reviews says I update in 3 days instead of a week ;)**

**As a thank you for supporting me so far, anyone who reviews over the 100 review mark will have a prompt of their choosing (include it in the review) for me to include in the next one or two chapters. Anything is fair game, from having Vivienne in a chicken outfit or something smutty or whatever you want.**


	11. Stupid Tunic

**So... This story has just hit the 100th review mark, and I'm so damn happy. Thanks for reading and following/favoriting and reviewing, and enjoy!**

**Also, I've received the prompts and I'm working on them right now. They'll be up on Valentine's Day ;)**

* * *

"'Sleeping your way to the top?' is a very specific message." Leliana frowns as she fingers the scrap of paper in her hands.

Maybe it's because of the somberly tone in Leliana's voice, but the war room feels heavy and stuffy. Or perhaps it just feels like that all the time; Sera wouldn't know, because it's her first time stepping inside the room. On the large and heavy table at the center of the room lie two maps, one of Ferelden, and one of Orlais.

_Why don't they even have chairs?_ Sera thinks.

She doesn't like the room. The air is tense and serious, fitting for a room where the fates of many are decided by daggers and markers on maps. The atmosphere weighs heavily of responsibility, and she doesn't enjoy it one bit. She wonders how Adaar stands weighing in all the options and prattling around with her advisors here, every single day.

"However, I've managed to track the source of our anonymous sender." Leliana says, setting the note down on the war table.

"That was fast," Adaar nods in admiration. "The box only arrived, what, an hour ago?"

Sera gives the spymaster an uncharacteristically weak grin. "Show me how you do all this stuff some time, yeah?"

"It doesn't take a genius to recognize the seal of Orlais' most reputable shipping company, I'm afraid." Leliana smiles dryly. "Nor does it take much to recognize the royal seal."

"That fancy blue thing on the side of the box, you mean?" Sera frowns and curses under her breath. "I've seen it around. Them letters from the Empress' bunch always has one on 'em."

Adaar tells herself to ask Sera why she knows what the royal seal looks like, later. "By the royal seal, are we talking about the Empress' royal court?"

"The one and only." Leliana nods. "I trust you know what this means."

"Our lovely anonymous isn't interested in staying anonymous." Adaar strokes her chin in deep thought. "In other words, 'Come and get me'. Quite ballsy."

"Exactly." Leliana nods, then clicks her tongue in annoyance. "Do you remember the note that came with the trap you encountered before the Redcliffe incident? And the servant girl with the poisoned pastry?"

Sera shudders, remembering the sharp pierce of the arrow on her leg. "I damn remember it."

"I believe it's from the same sender."

"I thought so too." Adaar comments. "Blatantly obvious tracks, similar handwritings, knowing things that not many should know about. It all points to the same person."

Leliana gives Adaar a wary look. "Things that not many should know about?"

"They knew we were after that stash when the trap was sprung, knew what we bought in the bakery at Redcliffe," Adaar crosses her arms. "And judging from our little present today, they know that the two of us are going to bed together."

"Talk about fuckin' creepy," Sera scowls. "This keeps up and I'll be on my toes even when I'm pissing."

Leliana's eyes twinkle with an amusement that seems to fit a gossiping tavern girl more than a spymaster. "The two of you haven't exactly been subtle, judging from how much the servants and soldiers have been talking." The Nightingale nods faintly. "I'm going to need to send out some of my people to investigate this. Do narrow down the possibilities of suspects, and meet me later. I'll update our security with the new information we have."

Adaar nods and smiles. "You're right. I shouldn't keep Cassandra waiting."

"In that case, I'll see you both later." Leliana says, with a small smile.

The door to the war room shuts with a thud and Sera sighs heavily. Adaar looks down at her curiously.

"Sovereign for your thoughts?" She asks, giving Sera a concerned smile. "You've been pretty quiet since the box arrived."

"It's just shitty is all." Sera says dismissively, although her crossed arms and avoidance of Adaar's eyes hint that she's not telling the qunari everything. "Sorry, Buckles, I don't really wanna talk about it now." She says, turning around and wrapping her arms around the qunari's torso tightly. She frowns when the chest plate stops her from nuzzling into Adaar's collar.

"Then let me cheer you up." Adaar says, softly stroking the archer's short blonde hair. "Let's go to the courtyard. Cassandra's waiting."

* * *

The sounds of clanging metal and tired grunts come to a halt as a small crowd of soldiers gather around Cassandra and Adaar. Sera sits on the roof of the tavern, effectively having a wholesome view of the two women.

Adaar holds a practice longsword in one hand, sharp enough to hurt yet dull enough to not pierce armor. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail and she's wearing her full set of armor. She gives the sword a few practice swings and looks back at the watching soldiers.

"If I die, please scrape me off the ground and look for my will in the top drawer of my desk." She flatly says, to the chuckles and snickers of the soldiers.

Cassandra's shield is poised at her side while her sword is relaxedly held in her other hand. The woman lightly smiles at Adaar's words. "We're going to need a bigger shovel to do that." She says, planting her feet firmly on the ground.

It might not seem like it to anyone else, but for Adaar, Cassandra seems so much bigger from where she's standing. It wasn't so just five seconds ago, but the moment she takes her fighting stance, her presence swells up almost terrifyingly. She looks at the qunari like a predator preparing to pounce take down a cornered animal.

The sight makes Adaar hesitates for a second, which is more than enough time for Cassandra to lunge.

She's terrifyingly fast, despite her heavy armor and shield. Her sword slices through the air crisply and Adaar just manages to block it with her own sword, her entire body vibrating with the force of the impact. A loud _clang_ pierces the air as their swords collide.

Adaar's eyes meet Cassandra's, and a cold shiver runs down from her spine to her feet as she meets the Seeker's calculating yet fiery gaze.

Only three times before has a fight drawn that reaction: when she was bound in chains and forced to use blood magic to escape a fate as a Saarebas, during the fight against Alexius in Redcliffe (although she was shivering more out of rage than of fear), and when she stared down Corypheus and his Archdemon amongst the ruins of Haven, alone.

Yet this one warrior can send cold sweats pouring down her forehead with one swing of her sword. _She really is something_, Adaar thinks and grins.

The two women slowly circle each other, both eyeing the other carefully and poised to strike. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

Cassandra lunges forward with a strike, Adaar leaping forward shortly afterwards. For several moments, the sound of metal clashing against metal fills the silent courtyard as both seasoned fighters switch back and forth between offense and defense. Adaar manages to dodge several swings far too closely for her liking, nearly flinching as the tip of Cassandra's blade comes dangerously close to her cheek. She counters Cassandra's strikes with short ranged bursts of magic, some of which are partially hitting the Seeker with dumbed down power to prevent unnecessary injuries. Cassandra's own strikes are opportunistic, quick, and strong. Complementing her shield bashes and parries are an arsenal of jabs and swings that cut through the air with sharp sounds, some of them making their way to Adaar's sides and torso before the warrior tenses her hand and pulls back slightly to avoid piercing armor. The qunari moves with precision, knowing that one swing too wide or even one unbalanced step will surely be the cause of a very painful lesson for her.

Adaar's leg muscles begin to burn in protest as she forces sudden dodging movements to avoid Cassandra's relentless assault. With her breathing ragged and her arm shaking slightly from the sheer amount of power she has to absorb while blocking, beads of cold sweat trail down her face while she slowly realizes that she's trapped in a tornado, and Cassandra is the eye of the storm. The Seeker herself is a tempered force of nature with her steely eyes concealing the furious storm beneath.

The mage sprays a cone of fire to Cassandra's face, which she repels effectively by raising her shield. Stray embers scatter, and Adaar smiles ever so slightly.

According to plan, she thinks, as she gives her sword a compact stab at Cassandra's side. But then the Nevarran turns her body ever so slightly, and her sword misses by just a hair. Cassandra raises her shield and charges before Adaar can pull her sword back.

Scowling, Adaar conjures a barrier in her free hand and lunges forward to meet Cassandra's charge with one of her own. A loud clang fills the air as the two women collide like two dueling bulls. A few impressed sounds escape the soldiers' mouths as Adaar's feet leave the ground for a fraction of a second as her balance is sent askew by Cassandra's forward momentum.

A bout of electricity forces Cassandra to halt and raise her shield once more, although the gesture is done slightly late, making her wince as the bolt travels through her shield and forces her muscles to tremor and shake.

As Cassandra stops in her tracks, Adaar swings her sword at Cassandra's side. However, doubt festers in her mind when Cassandra doesn't attempt to block or parry. Instead, the warrior simply thrusts her sword forward, the blunt tip clinking against Adaar's chest plate and finally tipping her over.

Her step had been just a little too wide.

Cassandra's sword moves between her eyes, and the qunari is left staring at the tip of the blade in surrender.

A clap comes from one of the soldiers, followed by more and more. Cassandra smiles and nods, sheathing the sword and offering a hand to Adaar.

"I'm impressed, Herah." Cassandra closes her hand around Adaar's larger one and pulls the Tal-Vashoth up.

"I should be the one saying that," Adaar chuckles and wipes the dust from her pants. "I was on the verge of pissing my pants."

Cassandra lightly laughs at this as she wipes the sweat from her brow. "I have one question."

"Shoot."

"Why didn't you switch to a ranged offense?" Cassandra asks, curiously. "You had the chance and it would have put you at an advantage."

"I needed to work on my melee range, and don't deny it; I know I would've ended up on the ground a lot sooner if we weren't sparring." Adaar tilts her head to Sera, who's jumping down from the roof and walking towards her direction. "And my girlfriend told me to stop getting hit in the face during battles."

A soft smile graces Cassandra's normally harsh face. "That's... Really quite sweet."

"Yeah, now you just need to stop getting hurt, period." Sera comments, playfully punching Adaar's chest.

"Why don't you take Cassandra on and try saying that to my face?" Adaar says, jokingly shuddering at the warrior's direction.

Cassandra can't help giving the two women an affectionate look as she watches Sera and Adaar walk towards the hold, arguing loudly and animatedly as the mage teases her about her comparatively short height. Sera retaliates by throwing up her middle finger in the air, nearly poking out a nearby soldier's eye.

* * *

Adaar plops down face first into her bed, her hair slightly wet from a fresh warm bath. The qunari's weight makes the bed creak and Sera bounce slightly as she cozily lounges on one side of the brand new bed.

Sera giggles and stretches herself like a cat. "You put on a nice show earlier, you did. "

"Glad to know that the sight of Cassandra pounding me mercilessly amuses you." Adaar says, her voice muffled as she lies face down on the sheets.

Sera hears the innuendo, but instead of breaking out into a guffaw like she would usually do, she just chuckles softly with a stiff smile.

"Why the long face?" Adaar asks, scooting closer to the elf.

"Nothing." Sera curtly says, crossing her arms. She says the first thing that comes to her mind: "Thought you took me up here to fuck, not just talk."

Adaar chuckles. "Honestly, are you feeling up for sex right now?" She confidently asks, knowing the answer.

Sera sighs and doesn't say anything.

"You knew him, didn't you? The dead dwarf in the box."

Sera nods wordlessly. "I met him in Highever once. Offered me and a friend a place to stay. He made really good pies."

Adaar slowly moves her arm over Sera's shoulder and gives it a warm squeeze. Her large hands completely envelop Sera's shoulders, guiding the elf closer. "Was he in your network?"

Sera nods again.

Knowing that the archer is in no mood for words, Adaar settles for tracing circles on her shoulder with her thumb.

"Tits, it's so unfair." Sera clenches her fists tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. "I'm supposed to be doin' this to keep the little people out of the fight, not friggin' drag them into it!"

"Sera-"

Sera shrugs off Adaar's arm and jumps off the bed. "Don't tell me to forget him either! I don't care if I haven't seen him for years, I'm not gonna just leave it there like nothing happened!"

"I never said-"

The archer begins to pace around the room, her voice increasing in volume. "He's got nothin' to do with whatever I did to piss people off! They should've went after me-"

Adaar grabs the city elf's shoulder and turns her around. "Sera."

Sera looks down as both Adaar's hands settle on her shoulders with a comforting warmth. She balls her fists in Adaar's shirt, wanting so much to bury her face in her chest and have kind, soothing words whispered in her ear. "I... never wanted this to happen." She croaks. "We were just supposed to stick it up to those uppity nobles and have a little fun, get paid, stuff like that. No one's supposed to die 'cause I buttfucked some rich tit's jewelry box. Hell, I've pissed off too many fuckers to even know which one's after me this time." She sighs, that simple act so full of regret. "I was stupid to think this wouldn't happen."

When she feels Sera start to tremble, Adaar doesn't hesitate to pull the shorter woman into a hug, firm and strong.

"Buckles?" Sera asks, voice shaking with realization.

"Yes?"

"I really fucked up this time. Finally bit off a bit too much, yeah?" Sera laughs almost derisively. "Look at you, leadin' this bunch and really making changes and all that shit. I'm just throwin' rocks and hoping I hit something hard enough to make it fall."

Adaar wants to say that it's not her fault, that she hasn't done anything wrong, but she doesn't do it because that would be a lie. It's true that Sera's lack of foresight is just about incredible; she pokes sleeping bears and runs away before she gets caught. But no one can avoid getting caught, especially with Sera's provocations and lack of subtleity. And this time, it finally caught up to her- or rather, it finally caught up to someone innocent.

"I'm not going to tell you to forget about him." Adaar finally says, after moments of gloomy silence. "I've had too many people die for me, Sera, even before all this Inquisition business. I want to say that I had to do it, but sometimes I was just a selfish asshole. I think about them every time before I go to sleep, Sera, but we can't change the past." She squeezes Sera's shoulder as her voice softens with what seems like guilt. "The best we can do is carry their weight with us. Remember them every time you fight, every time you make a decision, because you're not living just for yourself anymore; you're living for them too."

Sera looks at Adaar with disgust. "What, so you're sayin' that I should just lie down and deal with it?"

"No." Adaar firmly says. Her eyes darken with a rage that Sera's seldom seen before. "Be a terror, don't let them forget what they did. An arm for an arm, a leg for a leg. Let them know they can't brush off what they did."

"But what am I supposed to do?" Sera looks up pleadingly, her caramel eyes full of desperation. "I can't go around and fuck with those arsekissers no more. Not if I know someone else is gonna get it 'cause of me." She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I hate sayin' it, but I'm just a prick with a bow. How am I supposed to do anythin' else but stick a finger up their asses and hope I don't get caught?"

"That's the part where you're wrong."

Sera frowns. "If you're tellin' me that I'm making a difference no matter what, then you're full of shit. I've been doin' this since before I knew what a twat was and look what happened."

"You're not just a prick with a bow-"

"Yeah, yeah, everyone's special and all that bull-"

"There's also the Inquisitor, the big and scary qunari mage, and all the people and resources I can take in my big grubby hands."

Sera looks at the Tal-Vashoth dumbly for a second. "What?"

"You heard me right." Adaar cockily smiles and tilts up Sera's chin. "Me and all the people and resources I can get my hands on. I'm giving your organization official Inquisition support. Secretly, of course," She raises a finger to her lips as if telling her to keep a secret. "It _is_ a spy network, after all."

"What?" Sera asks, louder this time.

"With Inquisition support, we can secure safe communications with the rest of your associates while maintaining it's secrecy. We can also post lookouts and such, to make sure they're-"

"Shut up." Sera grabs Adaar's lapel and roughly pulls the qunari down to her height, cutting her words off. "You're too good to be true, you know that?"

Although surprised by the sudden yank, Adaar manages to stay upright despite her leg muscles still slightly shaky from her spar with Cassandra. "Is that a yes?"

Sera nods, pulling Adaar into an impossibly strong hug for someone so much smaller than the tall qunari. "You're the best."

"You've never seen me in a kitchen, obviously." Adaar chuckles, placing her hand on the small of Sera's back.

"Buckles." Sera firmly says.

"Hmm? You're not curious about how the Inquisition will-"

Sera gives her an impish grin and pushes Adaar back. The back of her knees meet the edge of the bed as she topples onto the sheets with surprise plainly written all over her face. Without moving, she watches as Sera slowly crawls her way up, her lithe body ever so slightly brushing over Adaar's as she trawls until her face is a mere inch away from the mage's.

"I see." Adaar props herself up on her elbows and smirks. "Impatient, are we?"

"Shut up." Sera says, before her mouth closes in on Adaar's.

Adaar's arms hook over Sera's shoulders to pull her down as their lips mesh together with a hunger that can only come from months and months of yearning. Sera's fingers thread through locks of thick white hair while Adaar's feel their way around Sera's slim waist. When their tongues meet, neither of them can feel the cold nip in the air anymore. Tongues slide against each other zealously as the heat from their bodies send both women's cheeks flushing with desire.

Adaar's hand closes in on the curve of Sera's butt, giving it a squeeze as her other hand fumbles around, roughly trying to slide down the tunic. She curses under her breath as the laces that are keeping Sera's breasts away from her refuse to give in.

Sera smirks at Adaar's desperation and begins to teasingly undo the laces at a painfully slow pace, relishing in the stirring desire in Adaar's forest green eyes as the growing thirst brews in the pit of her stomach like a coiled knot.

Adaar's breath hitches as her eyes feast on the first hint of cleavage when the laces begin to unravel, Sera's breasts rising and falling as she breathes. She impatiently reaches for the mounds, kneading with her two large hands entirely enveloping the clothed flesh.

Just before the last lace comes undone, Sera stops. "Wanna taste the goods, Buckles?"

* * *

**If you're ready for PURE SMUT in the next chapter, say "I'm ready" in the review box ;)**

**On an unrelated note, who wants a Sera vs Adaar spar? Hmmm?**


	12. The Chapter With Smut

Everyone, here it is. I hope I don't disappoint, and happy Valentine's day (aka single awareness day)

* * *

Embarrassing as it is, the hint of cleavage, so close, blocks any coherent word from leaving Adaar's lips. She nods stiffly instead, to which Sera's pride swells at her speechlessness and finally pulls at the lace which comes undone instantly.

The tunic sags and it isn't long before Adaar pushes herself up into a sitting position and starts curiously peppering short kisses into the newly exposed skin that she's never seen before. She slowly moves her way up, lips ghosting from the soft rise of Sera's breasts to the length of her neck, until she finally finds her lips.

Every hot breath that heats her skin further fans the growing ache in Sera's loins. When Adaar's fingers begin to tease the skin under her tunic, Sera raises her arms and lets the qunari remove it in one smooth motion and toss it somewhere over her head. The soft light accentuates the definition of her abdomen nicely as Adaar's calloused hands run over the ridges of muscles, feeling the taut expanse with an admiration akin to a sculptor shaping a prized statue. Strong arms, earned through countless fired arrows and bar fights, complement a set of equally slender yet strong shoulders that Adaar is more than eager to feel under her touch.

A sense of familiarity arises, and Adaar silently hopes that she's not dreaming this time. If she is, she's afraid she might go mad and make whatever demon behind this wish it had never come to be.

Sera shrugs off the straps of her plain bra and lets Adaar continue in her exploration of her torso as she starts to unbutton the Tal-Vashoth mage's shirt that's seldom not layered under her armored coat.

Sera takes the opportunity to push Adaar down, relishing the sight of broad, rigid shoulders that continue into hefty looking arms that flex slightly as Adaar holds her lean waist. Sera's caramel eyes trail down to a solid, muscular stomach covered by a layer of lightly freckled gray.

Sera frowns a little when she sees that Adaar's face isn't the only part of her that's been abused by her years of mercenary work. She reassures herself by remembering that she's here now, and anyone who even thinks of hurting her Buckles will get an entire quiver's worth of arrows in their backsides.

_Mine_, she thinks, as her tongue delves into Adaar's mouth to meet the qunari's own. _All mine._

A pair of large hands reach behind Sera's back to unclasp her bra and the garment falls. Upon the sight of Sera's perky, firm breasts, one thought flies through Adaar's head:

"Holy shit, why did I wait this long to take you to bed?"

"Beats me," Sera shrugs and hooks her fingers under Adaar's bra. She pulls at it, but it's too tight and doesn't budge much. "Stupid tit thing. Why's it so tight, huh? Gotta let your girls breathe." She tries one last big pull that yanks Adaar forward in a sudden motion, yet the bra still won't loosen up enough to pull it over the qunari's head. The frown in Sera's face is almost big enough to reach her jaw. "Fuck this, I'm getting-"

"There's a clasp behind it, love." Adaar smirks amusedly at the elf's frustration. "And that's easy for you to say. You're not the one wearing metal on your chest. Let me tell you that-"

"Buckles." Sera unclasps the bra with one hand and throws it off, impressively not getting it caught in Adaar's horns. "Shut it."

Their mouths come together like two magnets. Sera's hands greedily run over hot gray skin and the taut muscles underneath, slowly kissing her way down from Adaar's neck, one of the few parts of her that's smooth without marks of past wounds, down to her stomach. All the while, her hands knead her lover's breasts gently, rolling her peaks with her fingers. Her smaller, yet very skilled fingers.

Lips lightly brush over Adaar's navel, then further down, until Sera finally unbuttons the qunari's pants and pulls them down to reveal a pair of purple undies. A wicked smirk appears as Sera sees a wet spot at it's center.

"An eye for an eye, Sera." Adaar says, her confident grin barely concealing the lustful glint in her forest green eyes. "A pair of pants for another."

Adaar then slips her fingers under Sera's pants, giving her rump a fine squeeze as she slides her pants off.

She eyes the bright red piece of fabric intently, the only thing standing between her and taking the elf into sweet, carnal bliss.

Tongues come together in a swirl of hazy desire and the qunari almost squeaks in surprise as Sera lightly thumbs through her undergarments. The motion continues as Sera gives Adaar a most arrogant smirk before her teeth takes a little bit of the skin of her neck. Adaar takes a sharp intake of breath as the thumb presses down hard enough to pressure her nub, so deliciously sensitive from her arousal.

When Sera's fingers finally slip under after what seems like much too long for Adaar, the qunari gladly pulls her head back to allow her neck to be ravished by teeth and tongue. And then the first touch comes, an experimental stroke of the finger across her wetness, slick with heat. Sera continues marking the mage's neck, biting and nibbling right at the center of her throat, where the mark will surely be seen by all by the time they're done. Nimble fingers draw circles around Adaar's clit, far enough to tease yet close enough to draw a pleasured hum that sounds low in the mage's throat.

Adaar's tongue grows slack in their kiss as her brain grows foggier with every long stroke. Sera teases the entrance, noticing the nearly pleading look in Adaar's eyes. Chuckling, she times the first slow thrust inside with a purposeful stroke across the Tal-Vashoth's clit. Adaar breaks her silence and gasps into Sera's mouth, literally taking her breath away.

Sera's fingers are so different from Adaar's larger ones. Perhaps it's the teasing, but the pleasure builds up a pressure in her gut in a needy rush.

Sera finds her good places as quickly as she picks locks. A pull of the finger here and a curl there, and Adaar feels a moan rising up in the back of her throat as Sera hits a particularly sweet spot inside her.

But to Adaar's dismay, Sera chooses this moment to pull her hand back. The look on the qunari's face is enough to make her feel sorry.

Sera rises up and gives Adaar's lips a short, sweet kiss. "You better shut the window."

"Why?" Adaar asks, softly. "We're so high up I doubt anyone could hear us if we screamed at the top of our lungs."

"Fine then." Sera grins, hooking her fingers over the only piece of clothing Adaar's wearing and tugging it down.

Spreading the qunari's legs, Sera presses soft kisses to the inside of Adaar's thighs, so agonizingly close to her center that the qunari bites her lip in anticipation, an action that doesn't go unnoticed to the archer.

A breath ghosts over the glistening wetness. Sera takes one last look at the imploring gaze in Adaar's eyes, taking in the sight of the Inquisitor, flushed and needy under her touch.

Sera licks her lips, knowing what the sight does to Adaar's already lust-addled state. She won't admit it, but Adaar almost whimpers at the sight.

The first stroke of tongue on her wet flesh sends a rush of pleasured heat through her spine. Sera tongues her slowly, tormentingly licking the dripping folds and enjoying the feeling of hands entangled in her short blonde hair, all while her tongue tastes everywhere except for the neglected clit.

When she's finally had enough of teasing, Sera runs her tongue over the nub, gaining a gasp from her Inquisitor. It's not long before she manages to earn a low moan in response to the flick of her tongue and she decides she wants to hear more of it.

It's not long before a series of well timed strokes and sucks manage to coax the sweetest moans from Adaar's lips, sounds she never knew she could make. Sera jostles the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly as she feels a slight pull in her scalp when the fingers weaved in her hair tighten.

The pressure in her builds up like a dam threatening to burst with every suckle of Sera's lips, every flick that brings her that much closer to bliss. Had she been in a clearer state of mind, Adaar would have noticed that Sera's licking the letters of her name into her, so typical of the elf, making her shudder with every hot lick.

She feels the heat under her skin, the ecstasy flowing through her blood, and it's with a series of short, intense licks that goads a long, guttural moan that marks the end of her wits.

Mind-numbing pleasure crashes down on her like a wave, intoxicating every nerve in her body with sweet bliss. Adaar swears she's seeing stars when Sera continues to pleasure her through the aftershocks of her orgasm, milking her of every remaining sliver of coherent thought in her head.

Sera raises her head and puts her fingers back to work as she presses her lips against Adaar's. "Mine." She husks in between the kiss, relishing the sight of her handiwork: her freshly fucked Inquisitor, her Buckles, splayed on her back and naked with flushed cheeks and her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

"All yours." Adaar breathes, returning the kiss. She grabs Sera by the ass and pulls her over to place open mouthed kisses on her jaw. Straddling the Tal-Vashoth, Sera feels a knee applying gentle pressure to her core.

"Just fuck me already, you arse."

Adaar pulls down the pair of panties, completely soaked through with Sera's arousal. "Very well, then."

Fingers drag roughly over Sera's wetness, without so much as a second of teasing. Adaar admits that she'd love to torment the elf, make her melt before she takes her completely, but Andraste, she just wants to see her come undone right this moment.

Adaar's fingers are long and wide enough to rub the entirety of Sera's slit thoroughly. The callouses on her digits only bring more delicious friction, goading Sera to push her hips forward to seek more.

Adaar wastes no time in giving Sera what she wants. She gives Sera a little time to adjust to the tip of her finger, quite a bit larger than her own, which slowly pushes inside before pulling out and pushing farther in every time.

When Adaar's fingers start thumbing her clit and thrusting inside her with a steady pace, Sera can't help but utter a small moan at the digit massaging her walls in just the right places. She moves her hips to meet Adaar's thrusts, and even with the thumb on her clit, everything seems both too much and not enough.

Adaar's heart beats like a drum in her chest at the sight of Sera rolling her hips to take more of her finger inside. She pulls out, adding in an extra digit. A throaty moan escapes Sera's lips as a trickle of sweat rolls tantalizingly down between the valley of her breasts and to her tightening abdomen. She's flushed to the very tips of her long ears and Adaar can't resist taking the tip between her teeth to nibble and suckle as Sera wraps her arms around her bare shoulders to steady herself.

The constant pressure on her clit, the fingers fucking her into a heady haze, it's all too good and she wants more and more, despite knowing she's that close to the edge.

"Ah... B-Buckles..." She moans the name breathlessly like a prayer, clenching impossibly tight around Adaar's digits. "Herah..."

At the sound of Sera moaning her name, Adaar stops the movements of her fingers. Sera opens her mouth to protest, but she doesn't get the chance- Adaar flips Sera over, disregarding the surprised expression in the elf's face.

Then she leans down and unceremoniously lifts up Sera's knees to perch them on her shoulders. Leisurely, she plants two soft kisses to either side of the insides of Sera's creamy thighs, so slow and deliberate, before her mouth finally gives her attention to the dripping center between her legs.

Her tongue draws a long, hard lick along the slit, drawing a sharp breath from Sera as she licks through her folds with every intention to hear her name sweetly moaned once again. She gives no time for the pleasure racking through Sera's veins to cool down, flicking and sucking and rolling the elf's nub without leniency.

"B-Buckles!" The name is moaned once more as Sera arches her hips and grips the bedsheets between her fingers desperately.

A pair of shaky hands wrap their fingers the base of Adaar's horns. They feel rough horns and the cold clasps of iron, remnants from Adaar's time before she became a Tal-Vashoth, and they clutch tightly and then pull. Hard.

Adaar yelps in surprise as she's suddenly yanked forward and she plants her hands on the sheets as Sera arches her back to seek more and more and tugs harder.

The iron clasps dig uncomfortably into her palm, but the only thing Sera feels is absolute euphoria as her vision very nearly blurs and her jaw goes slack. Honeyed moans and whimpers escape her when the pleasure is finally too much to handle and she comes in a shuddering cry.

Adaar feels the grip on her horns loosen as the sweeps of her tongue carry Sera through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Sera's moans slowly fade away and the tight hold of her hands release. Red marks from the ridges of Adaar's horns and the iron clasps decorating them are pressed into Sera's palms and fingers.

As Sera lay panting and sated, finding the willpower to recover her voice, Adaar places a gentle kiss on the wet flesh she sought to please. Then she collapses, her head resting on the rising and falling of Sera's stomach as the archer tries to regain her breath.

"Shit." Sera sighs dreamily, her hand absentmindedly brushing Adaar's cheek. "We should do this more, yeah?"

Adaar leans up and kisses her, simple and chaste. "I'm glad you think so too."

They lay there in silence for a while, calming their breaths and basking in their warm embrace. They hear the faint sounds of clanging metal, drilling soldiers, chirping birds.

Small kisses pepper the hinge of Sera's jaw to the tips of her hears and back to the bridge of her nose. Sera notices the glow of post-coital bliss in Adaar's forest green eyes, the softening of her harsh facial features. An adoring smile slowly creeps its way onto the qunari's face as she sighs pleasantly at the comfortable heat of her lover's body.

"I'll make it up to you, Buckles. Promise."

"Are you talking about the fantastic head I gave you or...?"

Suddenly, Sera feels as naked as her body currently is. She pulls up the blankets in an effort to cover herself from Adaar's imploring gaze.

"Sera?" Comes Adaar's voice, seeking and honest.

"It's all weird, havin' anyone giving me all this just like that." She says, clutching awkwardly at the blanket. "Used to have to do everything by myself."

"I know," Adaar gives Sera's temple a peck. "But I'm here now-"

Sera feigns puking and makes a choked noise as she does so. The blush on her face only grows hotter, though, betraying her reaction.

"Hey, I was being romantic." Adaar pouts.

Sera cuts her off with a kiss, deep and firm and full of promise. "I'll make it up to you. Period."

"I order you not to." Adaar counters, yawning as she lets Sera nuzzle into the crook of her shoulder. "I'm pulling rank on you, soldier."

Sera snorts derisively. "Ever heard of me followin' rules?"

"Good point." Adaar says, her arm cozily wrapped around Sera's bare waist. She kisses her forehead and closes her eyes, chin resting comfortably on the top of the elf's head.

Sera doesn't fall asleep, though her eyelids are getting heavy. Instead, she recalls the set of flasks in her room, the ones that have been sitting in the dust for way too long. She silently vows to put them to good use again next morning.

She stopped using them after she suffered a bad burn from a little accident two years back, but she supposes that a little pain is unavoidable in her line of work.

Yes, with this up her sleeve, she'll definitely put an arrow between the eyes of anyone who even thinks of hurting her Buckles, no matter how many burns she has to endure.

* * *

**I've received the prompts for strap ons and Adaar carrying Sera to bed, and they'll be up in a separate one shot some time this week :)**

**If you liked it, put "woof" in the review box ;)**


	13. That's Got To Hurt

Sleep looms over both women's minds as they lie with their limbs entangled on the sheets, spent and and exhausted. Adaar's eyes have been closed for quite a while, yet the light brushes of her thumb on Sera's waist lets the archer know that she's still awake.

"This Knight-Whatever thing, what's it do?"

"It's battle magic." Adaar replies, yawning as her eyelids feel heavier by the second. "It's useful. And really fucking badass, if I do say so myself." She smirks tiredly.

"I don't like seein' you get knocked around like this afternoon." Sera softly caresses the hinge of Adaar's jaw, careful not to hurt the spot where Cassandra rammed the hilt of her sword into that afternoon. She sighs dreamily. "Though you're all big and _phwoar _and Cassandra's smaller but damn, she's well fit."

"What can I say?" Adaar shrugs, although her chest flutters at the gentle touch of Sera's fingers at the sore spot of her jaw. "It's hard to concentrate on not getting hit when Cassandra's doing that glare of hers. As you say, _woof_."

Sera giggles and lightly slaps Adaar's shoulder.

"And that short Commander whatsername, the friggin' anal one." Sera frowns and her hand tenses for the fraction of a second. "Don't like her scrawny arse yellin' at you all morning while she's sitting on a chair bein' all commandery."

Adaar chuckles and kisses the tip of Sera's nose. "I'm sure you'd like to order me around, have me follow your every whim?"

Adaar doesn't expect what Sera says next.

"And that poof-and-you're-gone thing and that glowy green big-arse sword, it's right scary, it is."

A weight drops in Adaar's stomach and her face falls. Scary? Many times, the word has been used to describe her, and for good reasons. People see the horns, the height, the magic, and they see a monster. And then there's the things she did, things she's not proud of, from the times before her joining the Inquisition. Those parts, she'd like to lock up and forget. She's accepted the fact that the word will always be associated with her, that children will run away at the sight of her, but Sera?

"You... Think I'm scary?" She asks, a slight tremble in her voice.

"'Course not, you're my Buckles." Sera giggles so innocently, so earnestly, that Adaar almost heaves a sigh of relief. "Some people do, but they get my boot up their backholes."

Indeed, she can't ever imagine Adaar's hands ever doing something she'd classify as scary, not the hands that heal up her cuts and sores after battle, the hands that so lovingly roamed her body not too long ago. To make this point, she takes one of those hands, so much larger than her's, and places gentle kisses upon each calloused finger. She trails down to a wide palm and further down to her wrist with lingering touches of her lips.

Then her lips touch something rough yet fleshy, and she pulls the hand away to see thick lines, uneven and deep on the Tal-Vashoth's skin. A glance to the side, and she notices the same thing on the other wrist. She feels Adaar flinch at the contact and looks up to meet forest green eyes that hold back something unidentifiable, unpleasant. Sera's chest tightens at the sight of yet another sign of former injury on her lover's skin and she wonders why she never noticed it before.

_Oh, duh._ She thinks. It's the first time she's seen Adaar without her clothes, and it wouldn't surprise her if it's the first time anyone's seen her out of her armor. The qunari had always retreated subtly to a secluded spot every time she needed to change or bathe. Sera first thought that perhaps Adaar was just a private person, or maybe shy, but it occurs to her now- _Was she hiding this, all this time?_

And just like that, she bared all of her tonight. Perhaps out of trust? Sera doesn't know.

"They chained me to the walls." Adaar explains, breaking the silence. Her voice is subdued, vulnerable and her eyes are too distant to Sera's liking. "I pulled and pulled, but they wouldn't come off. Escaped before they could cuff my neck."

Anger boils in the pit of Sera's belly and she lip stiffens. Her brow arches in displeasure, but the grip on Adaar's wrist only softens. "Then they fuckin' got what they deserved."

Adaar weakly smiles. "I thought you would grill me if you found out I used blood magic to escape."

"Well, you're not like those bloody shits, demoning up and all that." Of course, Adaar is always her only exception. "Besides, you only used it once, yeah?"

Adaar doesn't answer. She just holds her elf, and she swears she can feel the marks on her wrists start to sting all over again, with hot and fresh blood mingling with fearful sweat.

Sera feels the large, strong Inquisitor tremble in her hold, and she meets her lips against hers so gently that the blankness and the distance in Adaar's eyes slowly fade away as the fond touch of lips say the words that the elf doesn't need to speak anymore.

In the morning, Sera's limbs feel so pleasantly heavy that she can't muster up the willpower to get up from the bed. Her own little corner in the tavern doesn't even have a surface that can remotely be called one- the only place where she can lie down and sleep is the lengthy, narrow, hard furniture that she likes to think of as a cross of a couch and a bed. Not even the piles of pillows she has piled up there can hide the scratchy sheets.

Maybe that's why the thought of getting up is that revolting to the elf. After all, Adaar's bed is much bigger and softer than her's. The sheets are much smoother, the air doesn't smell like cheap alcohol, and Herah Adaar is naked underneath her.

That last part definitely catches Sera's attention.

Her Inquisitor has her arm slung over her waist, her chest rising and falling with the gentle rhythm of her breathing. Couple this with the distant sound of chirping birds and the sunlight seeping through the windows, and the task of getting up seems like an even greater challenge.

It's so, so unfair that she has something to do with Iron Bull and Dorian this morning.

So Sera buries her face further in the warm crook of Adaar's neck, hoping that neither Dorian nor the Iron Bull is busy this morning. Especially since she's planning on whisking them away without telling them beforehand. Then again, she would still do that anyway, even if the two men were occupied.

It's so very uncharacteristic of her, but Sera lightly lifts one of Adaar's long, muscled arms and moves it away. Hell, Cassandra and Vivienne and even Solas would be proud of her for doing this, but they're not going to find out.

Inky looks at the elf curiously as she rises, naked as the day she was born. The poor hound had come looking for Sera after she finished thrashing Cullen's new recruits around during evening training and decided to sleep at the foot of the bed after the Inquisitor, groggy with sleep, let her into the cozy room with a groggy smile and promptly got back to bed.

It takes five minutes for Sera to find her clothes, scattered around the room after their activities the previous night, and another two to dress herself. She wonders how her knickers wound up all the way to the bottom of the stairs and gives Inky's ear a good scratch.

"Keep the big girl company, 'kay?" She whispers to the mabari, earning an understanding look of obedience in response.

Then her eyes fall upon her precious Buckles, whose bare body is half hidden under the covers, and Sera gives her brow a kiss goodbye.

She fetches her bow and quiver of arrows from Adaar's desk and tiptoes in a very cartoonish manner to the stairs.

"Leaving in the morning before I wake up?" Comes Adaar's mock saddened voice. "That's cold, love. Really cold."

Sera stops in her tracks and turns her head to see Adaar sitting up, eyes still foggy with sleep and hair mussed up. "Meetin' Krem for some eats. Man knows how to grill them meats."

The side of Adaar's lips rise slightly. "Come back to bed?"

The morning light warms Adaar's dark features and sifts through her white mane of hair, which she runs her fingers through to tame the messiness. As she does this, her biceps flex and her shoulder muscles roll enticingly, leading Sera to gulp as her resolve starts to crumble.

Sera shakes her head to free herself from her lustful thoughts. Never in a million years did she think she would ever do this, but she turns around and marches down the stairs. "Maker, Buckles, a girl needs more than pussy juice to live!"

At the sound of the door shutting, Adaar hovers her hand by her face and releases a breath. She sniffs and looks at Inky, who's making herself comfortable in Sera's side of the bed.

"Does my breath stink or something?"

* * *

Archery targets are propped up by the stone walls, hanging from tree branches and sticking up from the ground. The soldiers haven't had time to repurpose the area, surrounded by walls and taken over by vines and weeds, but that makes it perfect for what Sera intends to do.

"Sera," Dorian crosses his arms curiously as he eyes the area. "Is there a particular reason why you brought us here?"

"Sure," Sera says, taking out a flask of red liquid from her ratty old pack. "You're gonna patch me up if I get too burned up." Then she looks at Bull. "You. Well, you bring me back if I mess this shit up. And don't tell people 'bout this." She turns her gaze towards Dorian's direction. "Buckles too, or I'll tell people you're walkin' funny 'cause you got Bull's rod up-"

"Because I injured my leg back in the Storm Coast and it's taking it's sweet, sweet time to heal." Dorian interrupts, with the excuse that he's practiced to the point of perfection.

Iron Bull just chuckles. "And what about you, sis?" He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Harding went to your room last night, said she owed you a drink, but you were nowhere to be found."

Sera gives him a crooked grin. "Yeah, Lady Herald's still got needs, y'know?" Then she opens the flask and pours it over her head.

She bursts into flames.

Much later, Sera makes sure not to set her arm down as she watches from the roof. Dorian managed to reduce the nasty, open burn into no more than a wide and angry red mark than runs from her bicep to her forearm. She'll pass it off as a bad scald and anyone who knows her and her antics won't even have second thoughts about it.

But Maker, it still stings like a bitch.

Nevertheless, she watches with intrigue as Blackwall and Adaar trade hits, with the qunari unleashing attack after attack with both sword and magic and Blackwall holding his tall shield vehemently to survive the assault. Periodically, the warrior rushes Adaar when her swing is too wide, dishing out efficient stabs and slashes of his own in the process.

When the practice swords are finally returned back to the weapon racks, Blackwall wipes the sweat from his brow and pats Adaar's shoulder amiably. "Good job, lass. Just remember to keep your guard up and watch out for counters and you'll be fine."

"I'll keep that in mind." Adaar says between her harsh breaths. "Any more wounds on my face and I'll have to start wearing a sack over my head."

"You get banged up some more and some bastard gets an arrow in the dangle bag."

Adaar turns around and gives the thief a welcome nod. "Nice of you to join our conversation, Sera."

"Make sure to follow up on that threat, eh?" Blackwall chuckles and ruffles Sera's hair, which she doesn't even attempt to smooth back afterwards. "I don't think I can handle seeing this poor lass take another one to the face."

Sera just laughs that little mischievous laugh of hers in response, and heads towards the weapon rack. Rows of swords, axes, daggers and a variety of other practice weapons are mounted in neat rows and stacks. She takes two daggers from the bottom of the rack and twirls them both in her hands. She smirks as she feels two confused gazes at her back. "One more round?"

"Is that an innuendo?" Adaar chortles and heads towards the rack, where she pulls out a longsword.

"Butterin' up Coryphyshit's goons won't get 'em to jump in bed with you." Sera deflects the words easily enough and heads towards the center of the courtyard. "You'd better not try it."

"This'll be good." Blackwall mutters to a nearby Harding. The Warden then proceeds to lean casually on the wall of the tavern, waiting for the show to start.

The first seconds are quiet, tense. Neither Adaar nor Sera moves, both standing their ground far enough from each other. Adaar is wary, and for a good reason- Sera is almost never pressed to a melee fight during their battles, but she's started and joined quite a few bar fights during their travels together and not once did she disappoint.

And then there's the matter with the practice weapons. They're dulled, yes, but they still hurt. This isn't a problem with Adaar's heavy armor, but Sera's clothes are definitely not up to the task of protecting her against blunted metal.

Adaar lowers her guard. "Sera, perhaps you should change-"

In a flash, Sera closes in and takes a jab at Adaar's exposed face. The Inquisitor raises her hand and conjures a barrier to protect herself, but the hit never comes. Instead, a dagger slices through the air, sailing towards Adaar's throat and stopping just before cold metal comes into contact with hot skin.

It's a feint, and a very nice one. But it's not good enough, Sera discovers, when she feels the blade of a longsword against her rib. Adaar gives her a playful grin, which is replied with one of Sera's own.

"Y'know if this was real and all, I'd be chokin' on my own guts but you'd be dead, right?"

"Yeah, but you'll never hurt little old me, would you?"

And they begin exchanging hits. Sera is nimble enough to evade Adaar's swings with her longsword, yet she's far from being used to fighting a mage in short range. Several times, Adaar manages to distract her with her sword and follow up with salvos of shock and fire that she pull just before they hit. It's just enough to make her point yet obviously not enough to hurt.

Of course, Sera has a lot of tricks up her sleeve. She's quick, her attacks seem to be completely unpredictable, without a visible rhythm, and her attacks come from angles that shouldn't even be possible.

And then it happens; Sera moves in for an attack just as she dodges a slash to the side, and she steps on Adaar's toes, simultaneously attempting to jab the hilt of her dagger onto Adaar's jaw. But Adaar aims for a counter, and ice starts to crystalize in her palm as she drives it to the side of Sera's head.

Now, it's only a matter of who hits first.

A cripplingly hard blow to the side, and Adaar's breath is knocked away from her lungs as she lands face first into the ground. She coughs at the dust clouding in her face. Inky pants happily as she stands on Adaar's back like a hunter standing over a prized game. The hound looks at Sera expectantly, as if waiting for a treat for taking down the large, horned beast.

The soldiers wince. "Damn, that's got to hurt." Harding says from a distance.

When Adaar finally figures out what just happened, she gives Inky her best scolding face. But alas, looking intimidating while one side of her face is caked with dirt is difficult, especially if her own lover's dog is proudly standing on her back, without a trace of guilt in her black canine eyes. "Hey, this is how you repay the one who pays for all your food, grooming, and a bunch of other things that I don't need to mention?"

"Someone's gettin' extra dinner tonight." Sera grins down at Adaar while she pets the mabari's neck affectionately. Inky barks enthusiastically in response and nuzzles her palm.

"And I suppose that extra dinner is coming from my plate?" Adaar sighs forlornly.

"Aw, don't get jealous, you horny tit," Sera sticks her tongue out. "You'll get some of this tonight." She says, turning around and comedically wiggling her butt right in front of Adaar's face.

A few stifled sounds of amusement escape the crowd.

"Horned tit, Sera. Horned."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna ride you up somethin' fierce." Sera says, leaping on top of the qunari's back. Inky scurries away and Adaar makes a sound of surprise as Sera makes herself comfortable on her shoulders and grabs the wide base of her horns. "Move it!"

The soldiers stare horrifically at the sight of a scrawny blonde elf riding the Inquisitor and using her horns like the reins of a beast of labor. To make it worse, Sera lightly kicks Adaar's side before she whoops and pulls at the horns none too lightly, nearly pulling the large woman off balance. The Tal-Vashoth is rendered just about speechless as she struggles to keep herself upright with the thrashing on her shoulders and in the frenzy, she steps inside a poorly placed wooden bucket by a rickety fence.

And then she trips and finds the ground approaching her face at an alarmingly fast rate. Once more, her face connects with the ground, and Sera is on her back, safe and comfortable.

"Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" Comes a familiar gruff voice that Adaar hasn't heard in a long time.

"Hah, that's not what the big girl said last night!" Sera exclaims proudly and puffs out her chest. She gives Adaar's butt a hearty slap that seems to echo in the now silent courtyard, one that gains her several odd looks from the soldiers.

The source of the voice soon makes himself visible as he pushes himself into the center of the courtyard, not far from where Adaar's face is still planted on the ground. He's a tall, muscular qunari with a dark stubble on his strong, square jaw. His horns, located on the sides of his head, look like they'd be quite big if they weren't cut off near the base. A long horizontal scar runs from his brow and beyond his lips. A shield that's as wide as Varric's body hangs from his back while a long broadsword is sheathed on his hip and white dreadlocks are tied into a high ponytail.

He would look intimidating, if it wasn't for the absolutely horrified look on his face.

"You, little lady, get off! Quick!" He yells almost hysterically. "Not the horns!"

Sera laughs in response and sticks out her tongue at the stranger. She gives Adaar's rump a good squeeze, further thickening the silence in the air. And

Two other qunari follow in his steps. One, a horned female, has long straight horns that point backwards and braided white hair, clad in heavy iron with a large two-handed axe on her back. The second one is a spiral horned male in leather armor whose stubble is barely even visible. His hair, which frames his boyish face, flows freely down his mid-back, where a bow and quiver stands ready. Curiously, he has a pen and paper in hand.

Several more follow behind, but they're hidden behind the three, who immediately charge forward when they see Adaar picking herself off from the ground and coughing from the dust.

"Taashe!" The qunari with dreadlocks says to the female as he runs ahead of them. "You go for the left! I'll handle the neck!"

Taashe nods and swerves sharply to Adaar's left. "Got it, Shok!"

"Kaariss!" Shok says to the male. "You go for the right!"

Sera watches dumbly as Shok just about flings her from Adaar's back and on to the ground. Being so light-footed, she lands gracefully and easily, but even Sera wonders what the hell is going on when she finds Adaar in a chokehold, courtesy of Shok, with her left and right arms twisted behind her back by both Tasshe and Kaariss.

Adaar's face is contorted in shock as she makes choked noises. The trio drags the poor Inquisitor until she's far away from Sera, who watches wide-eyed at the spectacle, and they finally drop her roughly on the ground.

The other qunari begin gathering in a circle around the Herald warily as Adaar takes a deep, gasping breath and coughs repeatedly as she pushes herself up from her elbows. "Fuck you, Shok." She says, between hard breaths. "Just like you to embarrass me in front of my girlfriend."

At the sound of the word 'girlfriend', the circle of qunari freeze and a thick silence falls over the area.

"What?" Shok dumbly asks, as if someone had just told him that nugs had taken over Highever.

"Hey, you." Sera saunters into the circle confidently, one elf in the midst of around ten qunari, and looks Shok straight in the eye. "Hands off the goods."

"I didn't know Herah was into girls." Comes a murmur from the group of qunari. "Or elves."

"I didn't know Herah was into _anyone_." Taashe says, a numb look of disbelief on her sharp face.

Adaar sees the confusion in the way Sera looks back and forth between the new arrivals, and she coughs. "Let me introduce all of you." She says, slinging an arm around Sera's shoulder. "Sera, this is the Valo-Kas, my mercenary company. The big guy is Shok, short for Shokrakar. Likes to make horrible dad jokes, and he's the big hat." She looks at Taashe. "This is Taashe, resident hardass and hardcore dragon nerd."

Taashe blushes silently, but says nothing.

"That's Kaariss, our loved archer and self proclaimed poet." Adaar pauses and raises her fingers, counting down the number of her former teammates. "Where's Ashaad, Taarlok, Katoh and Sata-Kas?"

Shok raises his eyebrow slightly as he exchanges strange looks with Kaariss and Taashe. "Uh, they're still with the lady with the eyeball armor."

"I'll find them soon, then." Adaar says, before she raises her head proudly. "And this is my girlfriend, Sera."

The qunari gather around Sera, talking amongst themselves in qunlat as they closely examine the elf like some sort of foreign object. Sera swats a hand away when it tries to touch her pointed ear.

Before anyone has the chance to comment, the circle breaks and lets one more qunari through. Dressed in a humble purple robe with her silver hair tied in a low bun is a woman whose horns seem like they were cut off messily a long time ago. Around her lips are scars, long endured but never faded, from the needles and threads that forced her mouth to close forever. The threads are gone now, but the scars remain.

But yet there's a kindness in her eyes, in the laugh lines on her slightly wrinkled face. When her warm eyes fall upon Adaar's frame, she breaks out into a run and she doesn't stop until she finds the younger qunari in her arms. She opens her mouth, like she wants to utter kind and welcome words, but Sera sees that there's no tongue inside.

She remembers what Adaar said to her about qunari mages, long ago. What were they called? It takes a moment, but the word soon becomes clear in her head—_Saarebas_. Dangerous thing.

* * *

**So, readers, why do you think the Valo-Kas crew tried to restrain Adaar? Put in your theories, and I might use some of the most interesting ones...**

**Also, who wants to see The Big One aka the giant nug? Do you think Adaar and Sera should finish their spar next time... with more "preferrable" outcomes? ;)**


	14. Word Of Warning

Sera releases a tired, tired sigh as she drags herself into the tavern. She had screamed her throat dry when an accident with a flask gained her an open electrical burn that Dorian spent ages trying to heal. Again, she walked out with nothing more than a painful red mark that the necromancer offers to take care of whenever she can stop by his spot in the library, but every movement makes her favorite red tunic scratch so very hurtfully against her back, and she finds it hard not to wince visibly.

"Speak of the devil." Adaar grins. She waves towards the elf from her spot in the corner of the tavern, in a table surrounded by the Valo-Kas mercenaries.

At the gesture, the Valo-Kas all turn their heads curiously at the elf, and they begin murmuring incoherently in Qunlat as Sera approaches the table. She doesn't like it. As much as she has no idea what they're speaking, she has a bad feeling about the hushed whispers and observing looks.

She blames it on meeting the people who Adaar's been with ever since- she blanks. She doesn't even know. Maker knows she doesn't exactly have a stellar reputation, even in the Inquisition, and she's certain the Valo-Kas will find out about it if they decide to stay any longer. Adaar doesn't need even more people giving her shit about her choice in women, damn it.

She curses internally at herself for even thinking about this and unapologetically plops down right on top of Adaar's lap to the approving chuckles of the Valo-Kas.

Shok whistles. "You reeled in a feisty one, eh, Herah?"

"Feisty?" Adaar snorts as Sera makes herself comfortable on her lap, leaning on the mage. She doesn't notice the wince on Sera's face as her stinging back comes into contact with Adaar's front. "That's a severe understatement, Shok."

"So, why'd you go for Herah?" Taashe asks, her curiosity showing through her straight face.

Adaar scoffs playfully. "Cut the act, Taashe. I swear you bunch gossip like a cluster of barmaids." She fills in a mug with a hard-smelling liquid and hands it to Sera. "Here, some legit qunari _maraas-lok_, just like the ones from Par-Vollen."

"'Bout time there's better booze here, Buckles." Sera accepts the mug and takes a long, drawn out drink. Deliciously hot liquid pours down her throat, warming her down to the core. The taste is strong and she thinks it'll help with the pricking pain on her back every time the fabric of her tunic moves against her back. "Damn, that hit the spot."

"Buckles?" Taashe's lip quirks upwards. "And did you just down that without coughing even once?"

"Hey, you live in bars and taverns as long as I have and the only thing that'll make you cough's the cheap, watered down piss they serve."

Adaar snorts."If you get hammered and decide to moon Vivienne and get your ass frozen, I'm not going to thaw you out."

"So, Sera, how is Adaar treating you?" Taashe asks, the curiosity betraying her straight face. "Does she give you any... Trouble?"

"It's all great, yeah?" Sera gives the warrior a proud smirk. "Big girl's sweet and the sex is good. What more can a girl want?"

"Well... Great." Taashe says, a bit dumbfounded. "Right..."

Sera brushes off her reaction. Most people react that way towards her, after all, but Adaar knows better. The qunari murmur amongst themselves as Sera downs more and more of the _maraas-lok_, and Adaar can feel the uncomfortable gazes being sent her way.

From the corner of the table, the qunari who doesn't speak eyes Adaar carefully. A kind, warm voice sounds in Adaar's head: "Herah, does she know?"

There are many applications of magic, and not all are combat oriented. Masters of illusion magic have several ways to manipulate their powers, and the rare school of magic has many advantages—this is one of them. It's a very much less known use of this particular branch of magic, but it's a useful one for those who are skilled enough to do it. Adaar hears the voice she hasn't heard for so long, and she readies a reply for the rest of the Valo-Kas. Of course, Sera can't see because she's busy downing the contents of her mug.

"No, she doesn't." She mouths.

* * *

Volleys of blunt ice sail past the nippy air. Sera swears and weaves her head to the side to avoid being struck for the third time on her cheek, because even blunted tips hurt like hell with the speed that Vivienne is hurling them with. A cold sphere grazes the tip of her ear very slightly, it's chill a stark contrast to the hot skin.

And suddenly, the onslaught of arcane ice halts. Vivienne sighs in a mixture of both irritation and pity for the poor elf whose hands are on her knees to support her weight while she stabilizes the ragged breathing rushing from her burning lungs. Rivulets of sweat drop to the ground while Sera's short bangs are plastered to her forehead.

Vivienne doesn't like Sera, and the feeling is returned wholeheartedly. However, the Orlesian isn't mean spirited, and she likes to make sure that spars come out with both parties learning something- their line of work is hazardous, and one slight error can lead to a fatal encounter. As much as the two women dislike each other enough to give Adaar throbbing headaches during their long treks together, seeing the other one injured or worse is something they'd rather not experience.

"Child, perhaps it would do some good to familiarize you with magic." Vivienne helpfully says. She expects a sharp reply, but apparently Sera is too busy steadying her breath to do so. "In most of our encounters with mages, I've noticed that you've always taken them out first before they can deal any worthwhile damage. While this is an excellent strategy, situations where this is not possible will not end well for you."

Much to Vivienne's surprise, Sera merely nods in agreement. The mage shakes her head, concluding that the rogue must be much more tired than she seems.

Farther away, from the corner of the courtyard, Adaar leans on the sturdy stone walls while Shok, Taashe and the one who doesn't speak stand by. The ex-Saarebas watches the spar closely, occasionally nodding and raising a curious eyebrow.

"She doesn't seem very comfortable around magic." She remarks, not unkindly.

"Most people aren't, Katoh." Adaar replies, shrugging dismissively.

"She is absolutely brilliant with a bow, though, isn't she?" Katoh's slightly wrinkled face beams. "What does she do?"

"Oh, a few odd jobs here and there." Adaar replies vaguely. "You'd have to see the shit she does for herself to believe it."

"Hah!" Shok laughs. "Or in mercenary speak, wanted criminal."

"Bingo."

"If I wasn't still wary around you, I'd punch you for being so stupid." Taashe sighs.

Adaar notices the shift in the warrior's step, but she just replies with a smile that's nothing but friendly. "I'm over the angry teenager phase, Taashe."

"But how long is it before you trip and fall into it again?" Taashe asks, a cold quiver in her voice. "Herah, these people have no idea what you did-"

"The Seeker and the spymaster found me and helped me get through it." Adaar says cooly.

In the middle of the courtyard, Sera sends an arrow that cuts straight through her previous ones, landing a second bullseye that receives impressed looks and applauses from the rest of the Valo-Kas watching nearby from her position.

Taashe's lips tighten into a thin line. "But they don't know."

Adaar's hold on her staff tightens. "No, they don't."

"Herah," Katoh turns towards Adaar with a sympathetic smile. "I know you want to wash the blood from your hands, and I trust that you are trying your best."

Shok's monstrously large hand squeezes Adaar's shoulder. "When we heard that you got involved with this Herald of Andraste bullshit, we tried to contact you as soon as we could. Then suddenly, a bunch of people in eyeball armor gathered the lot of us and said that this '_Holy Herald'_, you, had a letter for us."

"If it wasn't for your writing, we would have thought it was an impostor who wrote it. Or maybe you just banged your head too hard." Taashe comments, uncomfortably fingering the hilt of her sword.

"You said you had jobs for us, sent us running around Ferelden for _months_." Shok frowns, yet the concern in his gruff voice shows.

Adaar gulps and averts her gaze from the three qunari. "I wanted to be sure that I could do it. I wanted all of you to know that I've changed."

"That's not what we're concerned about." Taashe says, her jaw tense.

"This girl you're seeing, she is afraid of magic." Katoh's voice echoes in their minds, a statement and not a question. "I can see she's an impulsive one too. Herah, when she finds out-"

Adaar's eyebrows narrow and she clenches her fists. "She won't fear me." She says forcefully, her tone harsh and low. Almost simultaneously, Shok reaches for his sword, charges of electricy crackle in Katoh's enclosed hand, and Taashe's hold on her blade goes firm. Doubt festers in her chest, yet she forces it down just like the brief flash of _something_ on her face. Something akin to disappointment, or maybe hurt. However, when a warm smile crosses her face and her eyes look forward and her sharp gaze softens into a look of utter fondness, the the trio's guard drops and they follow Adaar's eyes. Their heads turn and their eyes eventually fall to Sera's direction, where the elf is currently shoving handfuls of sausages into her mouth with Iron Bull next to her doing the exact same thing. A crowd gathers around them and a soldier readily holds out his helmet to collect money, presumably for a betting pool. "I'm her Buckles, after all." She says, softly.

Hesitation shows on her face, but it's soon gone and Katoh pulls the taller qunari into a strong, firm hug. Adaar's eyes widen in surprise, but that doesn't stop her from returning the hug tightly. Shok wraps his large arms around the two, and Taashe merely stares before she slow and carefully decides to join in.

"You've changed, Herah." The older woman says.

The hug warms her nicely, even through the plates of metal of her armor. But even with Katoh's words, doubt still festers deep in her chest. It doesn't go away, even as she squeezes the ex-Saarebas tighter.

_I'm her Buckles... right?_

* * *

The bedroom is quiet, save for the sound of pen scribbling on paper. Sera murmurs incoherent swears as she crosses out one word and replaces another, making sure to press in the pen lightly as to avoid piercing the paper and soiling Adaar's freshly washed sheets.

Kisses, light as snow and soft as silk, touch the curve of her bare back. Lips graze smooth, slightly freckled skin, and Sera is so glad that Dorian made good on his promise to take care of her burn. A shiver runs down Sera's spine as they trail upwards to her shoulder and to the side of her neck. A hand that's large enough to close around two of her own teases she skin of her ribs, but as is makes way to cup her breast, it's swiftly swatted away.

"Aw, what did I do?" Adaar pouts sadly. Her chest pressed against Sera's back, she rests her chin lightly on the elf's shoulder to read what the archer's been sribbling away for the last fifteen minutes.

"Horny bastard." Sera lightly giggles and turns her cheek to give Adaar's lips a small kiss.

Adaar tucks a stray strand of her own silver hair into the back of her ear as she sighs pleasantly and basks in the warmth of the body below her. "What are you writing?"

"This whole managin' networks is friggin' hard." Sera says, setting the pen down and lying her head on the sheets. She groans. "Want this favor? You do that, then someone else wants this or they won't give you jack shit, then you do it and someone else comes along."

"Welcome to my world." Adaar chuckles.

Sera sighs. "And this fella from Verchiel, he put the stash we're supposed to split in the middle of damn nowhere!"

Adaar presses her lips to the back of Sera's neck. "We can go get it the next time we head out, right after we trip over a dozen or so Venatori corpses."

"Heh," Sera picks up the pen again and begins scribbling away. "I bet you're doin' this just to get laid."

"In that case, I must be a very bad Inquisitor." Adaar says, observing the series of crossed out words. "Want some help with that?"

Sera snorts displeasedly. "Sure, I've got eleven more of these shits to write 'cause some people are tryin' to call it quits now that we've finally got enough coin from you lot to finally do somethin' _really_ big. Can't blame them, but ugh, look at that." She jerks her thumb towards the stack of papers on Adaar's desk.

"Once again, welcome to my world."

"Ugh, this is stupid." Sera grumbles. She turns around and throws the pen and paper off the bed before she lies down and tilts her head, showing off her soft neck for Adaar to visibly notice. She smirks and raises her hand, her pointer finger motioning for her lover to come closer. "Come get some."

Adaar rolls her eyes, but the grin on her face doesn't subside. "Oh, now you want sex?"

"You wanna roll around or not?" Sera asks, bluntly.

"Coming."

* * *

**Okay, so finals are coming up, so updates will probably be a bit slow for this week or next week. But I'm a lazy piece of trash, so I'll probably put off studying and fuck around (and work on this fic), I don't know.**

**Anyway, can anyone guess what Adaar did that scared the Valo-Kas so much? Who's excited for the giant nug to make an appearance?**

**If you liked this chapter, say NUG in the review box :)**


	15. Sera Gets an Owie

Iron Bull doesn't stop when he hears the sound of muffled screams coming from Dorian's room. He smiles approvingly as his gargantuan hand turns the cold iron of the doorknob and lowers his head, shutting the door silently as he walks inside.

Perhaps the most intriguing sight in the room is Sera, who buries her face in Dorian's favorite pillow and grips and pulls at the bedsheets, crumpling them messily. Had Dorian not felt a degree of both respect and empathy at the situation that led to him having to magically mend the open electrical burn on her back, he would have chastised her harshly for getting into the situation in the first place.

"Yikes." Iron Bull takes a glance at the ghastly wound on Sera's previously smooth, freckled back. "You've got some serious balls to even try this, Sera, I'll tell you that."

Dorian snorts but gives the mercenary a warm smile. "Can you believe that I've been working at this for half an hour?"

"Damn," Iron Bull settles himself on the messy bedsheets. The bed creaks in protest at his weight. "You don't want the boss to see that."

Sera's teeth clenches at the folded piece of cloth between her teeth, face hot and sweating. Drops of perspiration roll into the open wound on her back, red and stinging as the gruesomely marred flesh is being knitted together. Dorian tries his best to wipe them away with the towel readily situated on his lap, yet every time he touches the singed flesh nearby, Sera grunts painfully and winces.

Then he stops and sighs. "Let's stop right here. Take some of my poultices and rub them on, let it heal right."

Sera raises her head and turns it to face Dorian as the twisted expression of pain of her face begins to subside. "I don't got any stupid time, we're headin' for Verchiel tomorrow. No way I'm gonna wear my armor over this."

Dorian pitifully places a warm hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "As much as I'm displeased with you replacing my wine with grapes and vinegar, watching you scream painfully into my pillow is not what I want to see."

"Aw, but that alchemical shit is fucking badass." Iron Bull pleadingly looks at Dorian. "Anyone's got to have balls of steel to even try it. Imagine the mayhem, Dorian."

"It wouldn't hurt so much if you didn't ask for it to be healed faster instead of less painfully, I'm sure you know." Dorian shoots the Ben-Hassrath a look and finally turns to meet Sera's eyes, clouded with weariness and no small amount of pain. "Why are you doing this?"

Sera's neck muscles loosen and she buries her face in the pillow again, trying not to make a pained sound at the cold air on her wound.

* * *

Adaar holds out the grip of the spirit sword that she borrowed from Commander Helaine. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and visualizes.

_It has to be strong,_ she reminds herself. _Real._

Several seconds pass as the Valo-Kas crew gathers around the Inquisitor, holding their breaths as Adaar's brow furrows in frustration. Sera, on the other hand, merely watches quietly as her teeth clench every time the bandaged wound brushes wrongly against her tunic. She didn't lose a lot of blood, but the burning pain is enough to make her dizzy. The sounds of soldiers chattering around doesn't help her headache.

_Will it into reality._

The crew releases a gasp as a dull green outline begins to form out of thin air. Over the next few seconds, the glow, eerily akin to that of those damned Fade rifts Sera hates so much, grows more intense. It's phantom shape solidifies and it's glow strengthens into a longsword's image, generous in both width and length. She opens her eyes, the color strikingly similar to the weapon's luminescence, and takes a large slash at the training dummy before her. It's cut in half, although quite uncleanly, and sand from the now unusable sack spills to the ground.

It's at this exact moment that Sera's vision starts to blur and she feels like she's going to fall over right there and then. She staggers away without so much as a glance back, trying to distance herself from the sounds of the Valo-Kas mercenaries whooping at Adaar finally succeeding in fully conjuring her spirit sword.

Maker, it feels like a whole chunk of her back has been seared off. She didn't see the severity of the wound herself, but it certainly feels like it. The poultice fucking hurts, but she needs to be ready for tomorrow and it'll help her heal faster, because damn it if anyone else gets hurt because of her pissing on people too much. Again.

She'll have to visit one of the healers later and maybe even bribe them to not mention it to anyone.

She doesn't notice Adaar's gaze on her back as she slowly shuffles back to her little corner in the tavern.

"What was that about?" Shok gives Adaar a curious look.

"I'm going to check on her." Adaar says, sparing not even one second before she jogs lightly towards the direction of the tavern.

"Herah!"

Adaar turns her head towards Taashe's direction. "How can I be of service?"

Taashe gives her a thin smile. "You've changed."

* * *

Sera wastes no time in carelessly tossing her coins at the bartender, ordering the biggest bottle of booze from the shelf, and shambling to her room. Somewhere on the way, Inky had found her and decided to stick to her side as she makes it inside. She makes sure the mabari is with her and she slams the door shut with a force and irritation that makes the hinges of the flimsy door squeak, a sound that just annoys her further. Even the sound of distant footsteps feel like pounding hammers in her skull.

She sits down and lets the liquid wash down the agonizing pain from her shoulders. One gulp, two gulps, and it still hurts too much. _Shite_, she thinks. _What does it look like?_

She shakes her head and glugs down the rest of the bottle without so much as a taste or a breath of air before she lets herself collapse on her stomach. The sting starts to fade just a little as the buzz kicks in and a nice warmth trails from her tongue and to her throat and her gut. She sighs and Inky tilts her head slightly, whining as she nudges a hand that dangles to the ground.

"Don't tell Buckles, okay, girl?" Sera slurs a little and gives the hound a loving pat on her head.

Then Inky's head snaps in the door's direction as she hears knocks on the door.

Sera groans. "Go away!"

"Please open the door." Comes a level yet concerned voice.

"Get away, Creepy! I'm naked!"

"Sera, I know you're not. Please open the door." He says, and she can hear the sympathy in his voice.

She closes her eyes tight and attempts to ignore him, but a little annoying voice of none other than Herah Adaar echoes in her mind: _"Give him a chance."_ She slaps herself in the face, quite literally, cursing the annoying force that convinces her to stand up even with her legs wobbly with pain.

She opens the door and gives Cole her most sour frown, which is all too easy to pull off, considering her current state. "What?" She spits, although it comes off as more of a weak protest.

The boy holds up a small brown pouch that could just pass as a bag of coins. "Here. This should make it hurt less." He says, always with the distant yet kind voice, knowing yet innocent.

Sera is too tired to even put up a fight, but that's just what she tells herself. "I..." She scowls. "Thanks."

Cole just smiles at her, a smile she once dismissed as creepy and disturbing, yet now it seems anything but. She can't pinpoint the exact moment where the smile becomes somewhat comforting instead of scary, and she'd rather not know. "Rivers pouring down my skin, bones shaking, tremors and quakes like leaves in the wind. The sword, why won't it come? They'll quiver when they see me, but that's okay now. She'll smile, so beautiful, call me hers. Maker, I want to hear those words again and again, like music to my ears."

Sera has learned to decipher Cole's words quite well after months of shouting at him and his 'babbling'. Against her will she blushes at the words he says, scolding herself for doing so. "Yeah, so what?"

It's still so hard to believe the Inquisitor is her Inquisitor and no one else's.

"She is coming." He says, and then he is gone.

Sera shudders. That part, she's still not used to. She drops the pouch on the overcrowded table and pinches the bridge of her nose, beginning to form excuses and spin stories to explain her foul mood, but the effort is in vain because she hears footsteps coming the stairs. Adaar is by no means a noisy walker, but the rickety stairs of the tavern makes it hard even for she and Cole to stride silently. She turns and readies her most convincing grin just as Adaar steps inside with an obviously puzzled look on her face. Her armor is off, leaving just a coat of dark leather to cover her over her shirt and pants.

"Are you okay?" The mage closes the distance in one wide step, which isn't saying much when one considers her size and the size of the room. "You look paler than Cole's ass. Don't ask me about that one."

Sera is trapped between the large woman before her and the wall. "It's all good." She maintains her composure. "Just kinda have the trip to Verchiel tomorrow in my noggin. Kinda weird, meetin' up in the middle of nowhere like that, huh? My guys don't usually know these parts. The forest, I mean."

"Being the Red Jenny's got to give you a rep. When we're done with it, the Inquisition can finally start sending _secret_ guards for your _secret_ organization and other _secret_ spy personnel for your _secret_ shenanigans." She drawls and comically flexes her bicep with an arrogant grin. "I'll back you up tomorrow."

Sera stiffly nods.

Adaar almost scratches her head in confusion at Sera's taciturn response. Perhaps the pressure is getting to her? After all, the task of gathering a group of people scattered across countries and convincing them to follow oneself for some noble cause is a stressful journey. She should know. And then an idea hatches in her head.

A crooked smile. Adaar's presses her hand against the spot on the wall just next to Sera's head and she leans forward and down to meet Sera's formerly unfocused eyes. The parted lips and the sudden breath she draws tells her that she has all her attention now. "Let me cheer you up." She lifts Sera onto her shoulder seemingly effortlessly. One step is all it takes for her to lay the elf down on her makeshift bed.

Everything goes burning red. The burn comes suddenly, too fast for Sera to hold in her agonized yelp. Adaar recoils back in shock and instinctively hovers her hands over the archer. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck," Sera seethes and slowly flips herself onto her stomach. "Shit."

There's a dark red stain that soils the back of Sera's shirt, one that's increasingly getting wider and darker.

* * *

Cole's salve has a coolness to it that soothes the prickling pain, but even the lightest and gentlest touches of Adaar's rough fingers make her grimace silently.

Adaar carefully works her mediocre healing as she studies the burns. She sees too much scorched tissue, too much charred flesh. "I'm sorry." She mutters.

Sera forces a slightly harrowed laugh. "Stop it, you big puppy. You didn't know, you just wanted to give me a good time, yeah? Can't bitch about that."

"So, are you going to tell me where you got this from?"

"Fucked up during practice, with one of those grenades." Sera expertly lies. She tells herself that it's not a complete lie, since flasks and grenades aren't that far apart. "Dorian patched me up good."

Adaar chuckles dejectedly. "You wouldn't call this good if you could see what it looks like."

Sera yawns, the inebriation and the palliative combination of the salve and Adaar's healing beginning to let her relax enough to see how tired she is. "That bad?"

"It's gonna leave a few marks. Hey, at least we're going to match now." Adaar pauses. "Unless you want to see Solas or Vivienne. They're a lot better than I am, trust me."

"Eugh." Sera groans. "Dorian took half an hour to get this far."

"You asked for the 'fast but hurts like hell' method, didn't you?" Adaar questions knowingly.

Sera doesn't answer. She can't seem to think of an answer, not with her hazy mind that's on the verge of sleep. "You're gonna spend lots of time on this, yeah, Buckles?" She says, after a silent moment.

"Of course." Adaar leans down and kisses the archer's shoulder. "Or else I won't be able to pin you down and fuck you, won't I?"

Sera giggles weakly. "_I'll_ pin you down and fuck you."

"You're slurring, love. A tongue in that state won't be any good, eh?"

"Horse shit." Sera yawns, and she closes her eyes. The hurting falls away, and she lets out a small snore.

Adaar pops out two cerulean colored potions from her coat. She's going to need it the extra magic.

* * *

**Who's excited for my version of Verchiel? How much pain do want? Are you prepared for the DRAMA? Why do you think Sera is putting herself through this?**

**Say "NO SERA NO" if you don't want her to get hurt badly.**

**Say "NO BUCKLES NO" If you don't want Adaar to get hurt badly.**

**If you want them both to get hurt badly, say ";)".**

**Not so much fluff here, but there will be... Things... In the next chapter ;)**


	16. One Big Nug

**Sorry for not updating last week, guys. I was really busy with finals and stuff which will be in under a month, and I was exhausted just about every day. **

**But yeah, here it is!**

* * *

'The Big One' contently stands ready in her designated space in the stable. She stands tall, clearly outmatching in height everyone in the group except for Adaar and Iron Bull. Rough, leathery skin with the color of smoke covers the whole of her body, which is supported by four thick limbs that resemble tree trunks more than a pair of arms and legs.

The stable boy whistles. "That is one big nug."

"Great, because I didn't empty my coin purse for something that'll pass out after fifty yards." Adaar says as she watches some stable workers ready the war nug's saddle. "I'm certain the horses appreciate not being worked to an early grave by carrying _my_ ass around."

A young boy who's only started growing a light brown stubble on his chin nervously shuffles to the qunari and lowers himself to one knee. "Inquisitor, forgive me, but we have only eight horses ready. One chipped a horseshoe, it'll take a while to get it replaced. I can ask one of the soldiers to give up-"

"I didn't know I was so ugly you couldn't look straight at me, Jared."

"I-I'm sorry, Inquisitor, I was just trying to be respectful." He lowers his head even further.

"And I'm just pulling your leg." Adaar offers the boy her hand. "I'll just have one of my companions ride with me, then. No big deal."

"T-Thank you. Inquisitor." He says, even his none-too-small hands seeming tiny as he accepts Adaar's and lets her pull him up.

Someone slaps Adaar's ass. The stable hands all raise their heads, watching with interest at the elf who dares to do such a thing to the Inquisitor. "Don't play coy just 'cause you know I'm sleepin' with her, Jared. I don't do pricks, and since I'm doin' this one, then she's no prick." Sera says simply, slapping the boy in the back. "No need for all that polite pish."

That begins another episode in which Adaar watches the two with amusement as Sera attempts to show the shy young boy a wide array of rude gestures.

"Herah."

"Yes, Cassandra?"

"You are taking all of us?" The Seeker asks skeptically.

Adaar nods. "I'll explain on the way."

And she keeps her word. No later than two hours after, the nine travel through the quiet forest without interruption. The sun shines brightly yet the air is comfortably cool, and birds fly overhead while they chirp their songs. It seems like a perfect day that will never go wrong.

"We spoke to Leliana before we left. She told me that we'd better anticipate an ambush of some sort." Adaar explains. Sera makes herself comfy, lying her back against Adaar's chest plate as she hums a tune, enjoying the tall view that riding the war nug gives her. "From our lovely anonymous sender, of course. There's been no proof of them meddling with our plans this time, but it's better to be safe. A little squad from the Valo-Kas are supposed to be there already, hiding just in case something goes wrong."

The trip is uneventful, to the point almost being boring. Iron Bull's horse started trembling under his weight an hour ago, and he sends the beast back out of pity.

Adaar, however, has something to distract her: her height gives her quite the vantage point to enjoy the sight of Sera's ample breasts, clad in a sinfully appealing display under her leather armor. The view is very nice and so Adaar can't help the appreciative smirk that grows more stupidly lopsided with every passing second that she eyes her lover's assets. She sighs dreamily and promises herself to finish the negotiation as fast as possible so she can return to her chambers tonight.

"Eyes on the road." Blackwall quips, giving the qunari a good natured grin.

"I like enjoying the simple pleasures of life." Adaar replies, the crooked smile not quite gone from her face.

"You know what else is worth staring at?" Sera giggles suggestively. She points towards Cassandra's direction. "That."

"So that's why you've been so quiet." Adaar chuckles.

Indeed, Cassandra's back is very pleasing to the eyes. Adaar can see the raw strength from those wide, muscled shoulders, even under the heavy armor she insists on wearing every moment she steps out of her quarters. The broad back narrows and dips into a well-sculpted waist that no holds together an impressive toned abdomen, with skin the color of the finest bronze.

"This is why I never seem to concentrate when we practice together." Adaar chortles impishly. "I see that we both have fine taste in women."

"Make the nug go faster, Buckles." Sera says, lightly kicking her foot at the nug's side. "Take a closer look, yeah? May as well."

"I... can hear you." Cassandra's voice is strained but she looks straight ahead. From beside her, Solas can see the warrior's grip on her horse's reins tighten. "I can hear _both_ of you."

Silence. Then, Sera giggles not very quietly. "I think she's turning purple." She whispers, or tries to.

"I can still hear you, Sera." Cassandra slowly growls, although the embarrassment creeps in her voice quite obviously.

"It's a shame Vivienne isn't wearing her casual outfit." Adaar tactfully ignores the warrior. "That's a very strategically placed... hole."

Cassandra looks to her side, expecting a reaction from the Orlesian. However, Vivienne is calm as always and merely smiles with a serenity that can rival that of the late Divine Justinia. "If you'd like to stare, darling, I insist that you look down. I don't think your bed warmer will mind at all." She quips, although there's an amused and friendly tinge in her tone.

Sera sticks out her tongue although she knows Vivienne can't see her. "You're just jealous 'cause you're not the one getting plowed all night, every night."

Iron Bull high fives the elf and guffaws as Cassandra makes a disgusted noise.

"Aw, cheer up, Seeker." Varric smiles wryly.

"Yeah, cheer up, Lady Pentaghast." Sera flashes a shit eating grin that almost makes Cassandra's eyebrow twitch. "Sure Varric's up to it if you ask."

Cassandra's horse stops and the Nevarran turns the animal around. "Don't." She says, venom dripping from the scowl on her face.

"Buttercup, I suggest stopping right there if you want to be back at Skyhold in one piece." Varric smirks.

Solas chuckles. "I suppose a nice dinner is out of the question?"

"Stop." Cassandra growls.

All is silent before Dorian whispers to Solas. "I believe I just saw smoke escape from her ears."

"Dorian!"

* * *

By the time they arrive at the designated spot, the only person they see is a rather stocky young man who can't be any older than twenty. His pale face is smattered with freckles and a wild mop of curly ginger hair sits on his head. He paces around nervously, once wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his oversized shirt.

Adaar coughs and he almost pisses his pants, judging by how wide his eyes are when he turns around to find the towering Inquisitor much too close for his liking, although she's not even close enough to do anything to the poor boy. Not that it matters to a mage, but she decides that she should leave that part out lest the boy pass out and hit his head on an ill placed rock.

Sera reassures him in her own lewd way of groping Adaar's ass to 'show him the big girl's alright', and once he gets over the initial shock, he believes her. After all, if Sera says she's all right, then she has to be more than all right, he deduces.

And then it happens, all too fast.

There's the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. By the time they all ready their weapons, a suddenly appearing Ashaad is standing over the corpse of a man with his daggers bloodied, but he doesn't see the mage throwing a razor sharp icicle.

But that's no issue for him, because the icicle races through the winds towards the very boy they're supposed to negotiate with. Sera launches herself at the boy, yelling at him to get down and find cover, but he's heavier than he looks. She persists, though, because no life is getting snuffed out because of her. Not again.

By the time he's safely crouched on the ground, Sera's breath catches and she prepares for the pain, but it does nothing to numb it down. Shivering cold effortlessly stabs through her arm, the ice freezing and cutting through nerve and muscle. The tip of the icicle passes through skin, reappearing on the other side of her arm in a shard covered in red. A lone drop of blood drips and soils the ground below, and then all hell breaks loose as Sera's face contorts in pain.

Swarms and swarms pour from beyond the bushes, from above the trees, from every direction. Warriors, archers, rogues, mages. The next time Sera looks, she can see the Valo-Kas crew seemingly appearing from nowhere to flank their assailants while Iron Bull, Blackwall and Cassandra clash and pave their way onwards into the enemy ranks. The archer instinctively reaches for her bow, yet the movement predictably fails when she feels a sharp, icy jolt of pain run through her limb. Hot rivulets of blood run down her elbow, dripping from her fingertips, and only then does she wonder where her qunari is.

It doesn't take long for her to spot the motionless woman, her eyes unblinkingly fixed on Sera herself as if hypnotized by the puddle of red that's starting to form beneath. Her metal clad fingers twitch as her jaw locks, and she turns her head at breakneck speed to the direction of the battle. She stares past the clanging of steel, past the cries of war, at one mage with slicked back hair the color of charcoal. He's a noble, judging by his expensive looking robe, but she doesn't notice.

She will have that mage.

Before Sera can register anything, the spirit sword manifests into Adaar's hand, and the mage charges with frightening speed into the heat of battle. She swings her weapon savagely with power that she's never used before and the sword cuts through an unsuspecting warrior's chest plate. He screams in agony as the sword is lodged inside his torso, but without a hint of reluctance, Adaar pulls and forcefully tugs it free from his chest and she jams it in again. The impact knocks the scream from his lungs and he watches with a cold sweat pouring down his brow as the sword breaks through flesh and bone. She hacks into him several times before she shakes her sword to the side to get rid of the corpse, and the body lands with eyes wide, and it carries a clear message even after his demise: _Help me_.

And then a large hand covers Sera's eyes, one that she bites _hard_. The qunari grunts in annoyance and frowns. "It's just me." Kaariss whispers, motioning for her to be quiet. He holds his elegant longbow firmly as he gulps."Let's get you out of here. You don't want to see this."

"I ain't going anywhere." Sera replies, shrugging off the hand on her arm. "I'm supposed to get this job done and you've got no idea how shitting hard it was to get 'em to meet us." She argues, breathing hard as she clutches her injured arm. The icicle had melted and blood is flowing freely down her arm. She feels her skin going cold and her head starting to spin, but damn if she even tries to show it.

He scowls and yells out something in Qunlat, drawing attention from the other Valo-Kas mercenaries. Slowly but surely, they edge closer to the injured elf in a defensive formation that effectively traps out any hopeful soldier who fancies her as an easy kill. "You are _injured _and cannot do anything in this state." Kaariss draws out slowly, his twitching eyebrow growing more prominent with every word. "Should another scratch land on you, this place will turn into a bloodbath, you twit. You will regret staying to watch."

Sera stands her ground, and when he sees that she has no intention of moving, he yells something to Katoh, who swiftly makes her way to her. Obviously, Katoh's healing is much, much better than Adaar's, judging by how fast she stems the blood.

Too bad Sera is too fixated on the sight to notice.

Adaar wastes no time in charging into another enemy, this time a nimble rogue who anticipates her calmly. Her blood boils too hotly she can feel it under her skin, and her face is twisted into a horrible, feral snarl. She throws a strong, wide swipe, and the rogue closes the distance in a flash. His muscles shiver at the murder in Adaar's eyes, and his attack hits her face instead of her neck. Blood spurts from the deep cut from the corner of her mouth to the bottom of her ear, but it doesn't deter her one bit.

Sera numbly watches as Adaar carves into the rogue's body. He falls to the ground after the frighteningly large sword nearly removes his leg, and he fruitlessly attempts to crawl away. He looks back, and the beginnings of a scream is cut off as Adaar buries the weapon deep into his back and rakes him back to her, dragging gushing smears of red over soaked soil.

She can't see what happens next because Shok blocks her line of sight with his broad body as he blocks any who wish to pierce their ranks, picking off the ones he can eliminate easily. She's about to protest at his definitely intentional move when Katoh places a firm hand on her shoulder and shakes her head. Sera swerves her head to the side, trying to see past the strong and controlled movements of Shok's defense, and the sight makes her blood run cold.

Adaar's sight goes literally red. There's no white left in her right eye, just a curtain of blood that enrages her even more. Sera can point out multiple spots where parts of Adaar's armor have been pierced through, and while she knows that not all of the blood on her armor is her's, Sera's chest curdles.

The healing spell can't be over quick enough.

Everything is hot. The pit of Adaar's stomach, the surface of her skin, the blood rushing through her veins and the blood rapidly trickling from her wounds. Her mind had been lost for a while, resulting in the inability to maintain her spirit sword. But she persists—what she can't cleave apart, she burns. She throws barrage after barrage of burning flames, and she can't hear anything. She sees their mouths moving, but she can't make out the words. She doesn't feel the piercing pain of desperate attacks that try to stop her, even as her own blood mixes into those on her armor. She mows them down one by one, charring them and throwing them aside like rags.

And finally, _finally_, he stands before her with shaky hands and frozen limbs as she stares him down not like a predator, but more like a mad dog that hungers for carnage, leaving a trail of ash and gore at her feet.

Shok, Kaariss, Ashaad, Taashe, and the other mercenaries have their hands full covering for both Katoh and Sera. The enemy stragglers have opted to try and pick them off, relentlessly assaulting in an attempt to get through.

"We need to stop her!" Shok grunts, burying his greatsword into a reckless rogue's chest. He looks at Sera and his eyes grow dark when he says something in Qunlat.

"Katoh, how long!?" Taashe asks the mage, raising her shield high in preparation.

The qunari mage shakes her head.

Sera sits quietly. She has been scared before, many times, whenever she encounters hostile mages, when Haven burned down, whenever Adaar takes a direct blow in battle, but she has never felt her limbs just _stop_ like they're doing now as she watches the Inquisitor tear into the helpless man.

The sound of the man's broken screams are hindered by his dislocated jaw as he is being burned alive. Adaar unapologetically hurls fire, fire and more fire. The scent of blood has long since driven her into an uncontrollable frenzy, overpowering the thick smell of charred flesh. She makes sure to roast all of him, from the tips of his fingers to the roots of his hair, and all Sera can see of him is a flaming mess of gore that makes her want to vomit. She can't even recognize his face anymore, nor does he have a single strand of his slick black hair left.

Adaar circles his throat with her fingers and she lifts him up almost effortlessly. She raises her right hand, douses it in flames, and connects it to his face.

He chokes and screams, and through the gaps of Adaar's fingers, Sera sees him watching her. Tears cloud his cold blue eyes, and he raises a bloodied hand towards her in a desperate plea for mercy. _Please_.

Sera stands, but her body feels foreign, as if she has no control. She clutches her bow and slips between Shok and Kaariss, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

A sinister red glow slowly takes over the green of Adaar's eyes, and the man's limbs visibly stiffen. He feels his insides hemmoraging, twisting, and he hopelessly grips Adaar's wrist to try and twist it away. He doesn't even make her budge.

The last body hits the ground and Shok drops his greatsword on the ground, breaking into a full sprint. The other Valo-Kas mercenaries follow suit, tossing shields and swords and bows aside as they run, yelling things Sera doesn't bother listening to.

Shok is the first one to reach Adaar, putting her in a chokehold. Sera breathes in, pulls, aims, and releases. The effort to pull her bowstring all the way back makes her wince at the torn muscle on her bicep, but still, the arrow hits it's mark and smoothly goes through the man's throat. He exhales one last time, his dying breath, relieved. She sees the life seep from his heavy lidded eyes, and she swears that he smiles just a little bit in her direction. _Thank you_.

At the sound of the arrow stealing the life of her prey, Adaar stops and looks at her handiwork. She suddenly loses the strength to hold the poor excuse of a corpse off the ground and she drops the body to the ground. She feels her arms being twisted behind her back, a pressure in her head as her air supply is cut off by Shok's thick forearm, but she doesn't resist. The hazy lust for blood slowly goes, and the reality sets in.

Shok realizes this and he releases her, followed by his mercenaries. Adaar feels bile rise up from her throat and she tremors enough for her former brothers and sisters in arms to notice.

Slowly, she turns around. Her Inner Circle stands together, but her eyes only focus on Sera's, for she recognizes one expression she's seen more than once, but never directed at her. It's unmistakable from the tension in her shoulders and the look in her caramel eyes.

_Fear._

* * *

**There it is, guys. Let me know what you think of it and tell me what you want in the next chapter. Did you expect this to happen? :P**


	17. Unwanted Somethings

"Take. That. Back." Sera just nearly growls, placing clear emphasis on those three words.

The contact gulps, his pale face only allowing his generous allowance of freckles to stand out even more. "B-But Sera, you saw the Inquisitor-"

"She only did it to protect you! And to save me!" Sera interrupts, her mouth fixed in a snarl.

He takes a step back as the elf snaps at him, his jaw never ceasing it's shivering, even as the light of the setting sun illuminates the camping grounds. "And why were we attacked? Who attacked us?" He stammers, finding no comfort in being watched by the Inquisition's famed inner circle.

"I put everything I fuckin' knew in the damn letter." Sera clenches her teeth. "Point is, she's got nothin' to do with the attack, she's just trying to make sure none of you end up dead!"

"But Sera, she's the _Inquisitor_." He says, whispering the last word like a dirty secret. "She's got soldiers and spies, girl. And you," He clutches his head and begins to pace, avoiding the gaze of both the elven archer and the others who are looking at him with indiscernable looks. "Since when do you trust these big wigs, huh? Are you out of your mind?"

Sera sighs, forcing the ill worded curses away from the tip of her tongue. She was hoping to finish this negotiation quickly and go see how Adaar is doing, yet two hours have passed and nothing has changed. "I trust her with my life. I'd follow her into anything, and if I'm sayin' that then you know she's the real deal." She bites her lip. "Look, I've got it. You're scared of her, a lot of people are. But she's a good egg, I give you that. I've been with her for months and she's never let that big throne get to her noggin."

His eyes widen. "Oh, Maker, it's true. They're saying the Inquisitor's... You? Really?"

"You're lookin' at her." Sera smirks proudly, albeit the tiredness showing on her face. "Look, stay for dinner. I'm gonna see if the big girl's alright, then you can talk to her yourself. Swear it on my breeches, you'll like 'er."

Before he has a change to answer, Sera rushes past him and gives Blackwall a nod. The Grey Warden gives her a look of understanding, agreeing to calm down the poor boy and keep him company until she returns. She and him are the same, and she knows that for someone so small, the inner circle seems like a viper pit.

A Nevarran noble clad in full heavy armor, carrying the sigil of the Seekers. A necromancer from Tevinter, also a noble. A famed player of the famous Orlesian Game, with her sharp wit and smooth words, also a noble. That's only naming a few of those that he'd definitely try to avoid.

The comfort of the friendly Grey Warden will be appreciated. The gratitude of their heroics during the Blight has not been forgotten yet, after all.

* * *

Sera has just turned the corner, shuffling quickly in her hurry to check on her qunari, when she nearly runs into a chest bound in leather armor. She looks up to see the frowning face of Kaariss, his bow perched on his back and his long hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"You've got no idea what you've gotten into, you idiot."

Sera sidesteps and scowls, deciding she has no time for this. Kaariss steps sideways and blocks her completely.

"Listen to me." Kaariss says in a hushed voice, grabbing both Sera's shoulders with his surprisingly slender fingers. "Have you any idea what your 'Buckles' did before this Inquisition?"

"Runnin' around doing jobs with you lot." Sera says so quickly that Kaariss almost misses what she just said. She tries to shrug off the qunari's hands, yet he holds her in place, knowing the wound on her bicep is still hurting her enough to stop her from escaping. "Let me go, you git!"

"Are you daft?" The qunari archer scoffs. "You've got no idea who Herah is and what she has done. What you saw today was stopped before it could get worse, and trust me, I've seen the worst of her in the past."

"Bunch of shit you're spoutin', now shut it." Sera dismisses, rolling her eyes. "Now let me through 'cause time's running out and I haven't got a lot."

"Remember what you saw earlier today?" Kaariss grasps her shoulders tighter as his lip stiffens, his irritation evident in his unrestrained twitching of his eyebrow. "What was _that_? You tell me."

"Her doing her shit, savin' the day and all that." She replies a little too quickly. Her mind flashes back to the burnt man, reaching out his charred hand towards her as he begs for his death, and her voice quivers. She tries to ignore the cold chill spreading from her spine unsuccessfully.

"Had you not killed that poor sod-"

"_Stop it, Kaariss_." Comes a calm voice in his head.

A soft hand, much softer than both Kaariss' and Adaar's, gently lands on the qunari archer's. "Katoh." He lets go of Sera's shoulders. "She has to know. She deserves to know."

Sera considers dashing past the man, brushing him off as some raving loon, but the morbid curiosity jerks at her, piqued by the concealed yet existing panic in the qunari's words that tug at the back of her mind too much. She curses herself as she decides not to take the opportunity,

Katoh nods, a thin frown lining her face. "_But Herah has to tell her this herself. You cannot take that away from her_." The mage brushes away an abberant few strands of hair that sticks to Sera's cheek and smiles, even as the city elf tenses at her touch.

Kaariss' grudging scowl slowly makes way to an understanding huff. He simply crosses his arms and narrows his eyes in worry, despite the amusing look Sera's giving him as she wonders how he can understand the mute mage by a lone look. "I worry for your life, and for Herah's. I cannot tell you any more, but never touch her horns. Do not ask her about the scars, or why she always wears long sleeves even in summer. Should you value your life, don't even try grabbing her wrists."

"What are you on about?" Sera quirks her eyebrow. "Done all of it, it's all been good. All night, every night, yeah?"

A pregnant pause. "I... see." He says at last, at a loss for words. He gives Katoh a suspicious look. "You are more foolish than I thought if you think you can handle that woman. She is not who you think she is."

It's Sera's turn to give the qunari archer her own glare of skepticism when he nods at Katoh, as if he could understand the mage's thoughts with just a glance. "Very well." He says to the smaller qunari, and this display makes Sera wonder even more. She'd definitely ask him about it, but she reckons it's not the time. "She is in the tent. As usual, she isn't letting neither myself nor anyone inside. We will see if she does the same to you."

The moment she walks past the duo, she feels eyes boring on her back as she opens the flap to Adaar's tent.

The smell of blood hits her like a strong punch before the sight does. Adaar sits in her usual wooden bathing tub with her back facing the smaller woman. Sera feels a small billow of steam as she all but tip-toes at the qunari at the center of the room.

"Leave." Adaar firmly commands, the hand previously hanging off the edge of the tub clenching into a tight fist.

Sera's feet stop at the sound of the cold voice, devoid of the warmth she's so used to during their peaceful mornings and passionate nights, and one sickening thought flickers across her mind that tells her to walk away from the beast before it hurts her. Smears of dried blood trail to the piles of ruined clothing and armor, both caked with rusty red. She feels like a naive village girl trying to take shelter in a bear cave, and the woman who sits unmovingly in the tub is the sleeping animal she shouldn't poke. She bites her lower lip enough to almost draw blood to drive away the horrible thought, because she can't think _that_. Not about her. She steps forward with a small tremble.

_What did you do?_

"It's me, Buckles. Just me." She says, her voice too meek for her liking.

"Sorry." A broken chuckle. "Thought you were... someone else."

She continues her steps.

"I don't want you to see me right now." Adaar says, pulling her knees to her body. She folds her arms and tucks her face into them, leaving Serato see only the sad sight of the Inquisitor huddled up into herself in a tub of water that's been tinted red by blood that's not just her own. Red gashes on her arms, open and bleeding, contrast against her dark, steely grey skin.

_What have you done?_

Sera kneels down and softly touches the part of Adaar's head that's just under where a horn begins, still wet with water. "Show me your face. Please."

No answer.

"Buckles..." She pleads.

"I don't look too pretty right now." Adaar quips, a poor attempt to lighten the weight of the situation.

"Come on, I just wanna know if you're too banged up to bang me tonight, yeah?" She jests and kisses the crown of Adaar's head delicately, then the base of her horn, then the other. "Please."

The gesture makes Adaar's shoulder muscles noticably relax as she stifles a soft laugh. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

_Who are you, really?_

She raises her head slowly, noticing the small gasp Sera unwillingly takes. A long, deep gash begins from the corner of her mouth to the bottom of her ear, creating the illusion of a sinister red smirk fitting for a villain of one of Varric's novels. Adaar laughs pitifully as she watches Sera's eyes widen, and she stands.

Droplets of water drop from her marred body. All manners of bruises, lacerations and wounds mark her body, open and untreated. As bad as they are, none of them are worse than the one on her face.

Only then does Sera see how pale her Inquisitor is. Her lips, usually held in a smile that entices her so, is formed into a sad attempt to copy it's former glory. The alluring dark grey is too many shades lighter, like the rest of her. Just as quickly as she rises, she tilts to the side and falls.

The tainted water spills as Adaar's legs give way and knocks the tub over. Her limbs feel heavy, like her blood has turned to sludge, and her dark spots form in her vision. Her sight blurs and her skin and flesh prickles with cold, the water clinging to her body making her shiver.

Suddenly, she's facing the ground.

Sera dashes forward, but the slippery water slows her advance, and she is too late. Adaar's arms fail to cushion her fall and she splashes into the puddle, sputtering and coughing when the water enters her mouth.

It's not long before she feels herself being pulled up, or rather dragged, into a sitting position. She sees Sera's mouth move, hears her say things, but she can't for the life of her decipher the words.

Then the black spots multiply and grow until she can see nothing.

* * *

So, what would you like in the next chapter? Big fight, fluff, smutty goodness? HOW MUCH PAIN DO YOU WANT? :)


	18. Don't Laugh

Sores and aches all over.

It takes a few seconds for Adaar to regain her senses after who knows how long of falling in and out of consciousness, but the first thing she smells is disinfectant and fresh bandages. She knows she's been hurt enough to find the smell almost comforting, in a way. The side of her face feels tight.

So she's been out long enough for someone to stitch her face up.

She tries to lift her head, but she only manages to raise it up an inch before her neck slacks and drops. A groan.

"Why didn't you let her patch you up?" Comes Sera's voice, shaking with accusations. "She said she came here but you told her to go hump a ram, you shittin' dufus."

"Those weren't my exact words." Adaar musters the strength to rasp her words. When she looks down, she finds herself clothed and bandaged up. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You're not gonna smooth talk out of this." Sera grips Adaar's wrist.

"I know." Adaar pitifully smiles. "I wasn't trying to."

"What the hell was that?" Sera asks firmly.

Adaar is silent for a while. "He hurt you."

"It's not about you killin' him." Sera shakes her head, finding the small hairs on the back of her neck stand as she remembers the man's dying gesture. "It's how you killed him."

Adaar doesn't say anything.

Sera feels a lump in her throat when she remembers Kaariss' words. _She's not who I think she is_. "I heard somethin' today."

"Kaariss?" Adaar asks, with a smile that's anything but malevolent.

Sera's eyes widen.

"He's a grumpy asshole, but he cares. That's why he told you." She chuckles grimly, slowly sitting up. She slouches a bit as she gives Sera a broken smirk. "How much did he say?"

"You're not who I think you are." Sera swallows. "But he's wrong, ain't he? He's got to be."

"And?" Adaar cracks her neck. She doesn't answer her question.

"I gotta be careful."

Adaar shakes her head. "Katoh stopped him, didn't she?"

Sera frowns. "How?"

"It's not the first time they've tried to do this."

"Herah," Sera breathes nervously. "What did you do?"

It occurs to Adaar that she should tell her everything, every little detail, no white lies. But when she opens her mouth, she finds that she can't. She bites her tongue enough to make it bleed.

"I panicked, Sera." Adaar chokes, her hand tightening on Sera's smaller ones. "When the qunari... took me, you have no idea what they did. You have no idea what I did to escape." _That much is true_. "If you want a hint, look at my face. Look at my wrists." She holds up both her wrists, the jagged, rough lines circling both of them serving as testament of the abuse they suffered. "Look at all of me."

"What did you do, Herah?" Sera blurts carelessly.

Adaar's tongue refuses to move. _I can't move_. She begins to feel the beginnings of unbarred tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It's strange, because she doesn't even feel sad. She doesn't know what she feels. _It hurts so much_. When her hands start to tremble, she finally remembers what she feels. _Fear_.

She remembers everything._ Burning hot pain around her wrists, chafing, so tight her veins nearly burst. The Arvaraad stands ready, the binding rod tucked securely in his belt. On his right hand is a sharpened saw. She thrashes in her chains, cold iron buckles strapped to her horns. He comes closer, closer, the closer he gets the larger he seems. The Karashok forces her mouth shut, but she screams. He holds a needle and a thread. _

At the first sight of the glistening moisture in the corners of Adaar's eyes, the guilt washes over Sera like a torrent of water. She joins her lover on the bedroll, gently tilting her head up to see her eyes. The forest green pupils are distant, not there. She's shaking, sweating. Tears flow freely down her cheeks, but she doesn't blink, not even once.

"Herah." Sera calls out, but receives no response.

"_You are no longer Karasaad." He holds up the saw. "You are now Saarebas."And a scream pierces the air, but it's not hers._

"Herah!" She shakes her shoulders.

_She is free. The chains are broken, and all she sees is red, because they look at her with the same look she gave them—the look of fear. And then she growls like a cornered bear, and the prison smells like blood, gore, smoke and death. _

"Buckles." She whimpers, wrapping her arms around Adaar's neck. She pulls her in close, feeling moisture seep through her tunic. "Buckles, you're scaring me."

_I am not the monster, you are. How dare you look at me like that._

"He's wrong."

Sera looks down to meet Adaar's eyes. All reason is gone from them, no thoughts remain.

"Kaariss is wrong." Adaar threads her fingers through Sera's short blonde hair. The look in her eyes is untempered, raw. _Please believe me_. "You don't have to be careful around me, love."

"I know." She wipes away the tears with her thumb. _No I don't._

Adaar lets the elf kiss her temple. She still hears the sounds of shouting and begging, smells hot iron and scorched flesh. Every time she blinks, she sees the Arvaraad standing over her. The soft kisses on her face are nothing like the hard steel and cold shrapnel, and slowly, the images start to blur and the sounds fade.

She smells cheap soap, hardwood and sweets when Sera holds her close. Familiar and comforting, she releases a breath she doesn't know she's been holding. Calloused fingers gently massage her scalp and Adaar sighs in relief.

"Come here." Adaar tugs on the laces of Sera's tunic.

She does just that. The mage pulls her down and slips an arm around her waist before she draws the blanket over them. She holds her archer close enough for their foreheads to touch. Gentle strokes move over the skin of Adaar's cheek, careful enough to avoid the bandages over the brutal wound.

"I can still hear them sometimes, when it's so quiet I can't hear anything else." Adaar says in response to the inquisitive caramel eyes trying to decipher her own. "I dream about them too. I don't get them anymore, though." She smirks. "Of course, it's all because you started sleeping with me."

"Pah," Sera comically rolls her eyes. "Womanizer, you."

"It's true." Adaar pouts.

Sera giggles and brings her lips to the qunari's for a short, chaste kiss. "Glad you made it out in one piece back there, Herah."

"Not Herah," She corrects. "Buckles."

"Hm?" Sera lightly pecks the bridge of her nose.

"Buckles." Adaar repeats. "I don't want to be anything else."

"What are you on about?" Sera raises an eyebrow. "Get hit too hard earlier, did you?"

Adaar chuckles. Of course she doesn't know. "Many Tal-Vashoth choose new names when we splinter from the Qun to emphasize our individuality. I chose my name under my own volition—Adaar. Fire thrower. Katoh never liked it, though. She always thought I needed a... gentler name. Herah was the name she decided on."

Sera snuggles closer to her Inquisitor. "You don't like it?"

"I do. I just like 'Buckles' better." Because when she hears the name, she thinks of Sera and all her sleepy 'good morning's. She's reminded of her breathlessly calling out her name late into the night as she grips her sheets between her fingers and everything in between.

Sera thinks for a bit before she says it. "Do you still hear them now?"

Adaar nods. "A little."

"What do you do when it happens?"

A chuckle. "I think about you. That part of my life is over. I've got friends here. I've got you. That's all I need."

"Sorry." The city elf looks down shamefully. "Shouldn't have asked you 'bout it."

"You didn't know. It's okay." Adaar traces incorrigible shapes into Sera's back as she wonders if she can ever tell her everything. "When I'm ready, I'll tell you. I promise."

"No need to hurry, Buckles. I'll wait."

Those words mean more to her than Sera knows.

"I never let Katoh touch me. Never did. People touching me was a sore subject for a while. It still is, sometimes."

"Yeah, you should have seen Kaariss when I told 'im I'm fucking you. Right in the pussy." Sera chortles with no small amount of trouble in her voice.

Adaar laughs a little at first, then the really laughs. The stitches on her face pull uncomfortably, but she can't hold it back. It's not long before Sera joins her.

The qunari is forced to stop when she feels the stitches stretch a little bit too much. "Shit. They really did a number on my kisser." She sits up and turns her head to show Sera the small stains of red seeping through the bandages covering most of the left side of her face.

Sera plants a kiss on the wound. "Better?"

Adaar smiles. "Much better. Now get to work on the other ones."

Sera winks mischievously. She reaches for the top button of Adaar's shirt, suddenly stopping before she touches it. She looks at her for permission. "Can I?"

Adaar nods and ruffles Sera's hair, giving her an honest lopsided smile. "Of course."

She opens the buttons one by one, keeping a watchful eye on her Inquisitor's gaze. "Why me, then?" She mutters at last.

"I guess I'm just smitten with you." Adaar huffs affectionately.

Sera blushes. Adaar winces as she lifts her arms. Her shirt is discarded neatly to the side and velvety smooth kisses trail over blooming bruises and tender gashes and cuts. Sweetness is not a feeling, but that's exactly what the Inquisitor feels as a undoubtedly stupid looking smile spreads across her face.

Adaar points to her lips. "You missed a spot."

"Smooth as fuck, aren't you?" Sera chuckles before she rises and claims the Knight-Enchanter's lips. She's pleasantly surprised when she feels Adaar smile ever so slightly into the kiss. She gently shoves the qunari down. She swings her legs over Adaar's hips, straddling the woman below.

"You missed another spot."

Sera knows what she'll say, but she bites. "Yeah?"

Adaar points down to her crotch. "Here."

Sometimes she is tender and gentle with her lovely words and sweet kisses, sometimes she just about throws Sera onto her bed and has her way with her until she's too worn out to get up. This time, she is neither and both at the same time.

She clings to her elf like an anchor. She is rushed and needy with her touches, kissing every freckle on Sera's back as if memorizing them like a constellation of stars. Despite her bold initiation, there's a vulnerability in how Adaar spreads her legs and gasps as Sera plays her with as much skill as she commands with her bow. She moans Sera's name breathlessly, finally falling limply on her back as the thief's lips and tongue push her over the edge.

When Adaar is left sated and breathing raggedly, her brain still hazy with pleasure, Sera crawls her way up and once more takes her lips between her own.

"I'm going to have sweet dreams tonight." Adaar sighs dreamily as she pulls the blanket over their naked bodies.

"You're a fuckin' perv." Sera laughs and nuzzles the pillar of Adaar's neck. "Guess it's a great thing that I'm a fuckin' perv too, huh?"

Adaar can't help but pull the Fereldan closer, chuckling lightly. "Oh, Sera, what did I do to deserve you?"

* * *

The Inquisitor is ravenous.

Arwel gulps as the tall qunari wolfs down her third portion of rations tonight. She's definitely not messy, he observes; despite the speed of her devouring, not once does the food spill from her plate and her face has remained unblemished so far. No chewing noises, no belches.

She shows no sign of being a commoner, and that only makes him more nervous.

It's a very far cry from the thief sitting next to her who's occasionally picking bits of food from the Inquisitor's plate. Sera has just finished her fourth plate, thereby baffling everyone who has absolutely no idea where she puts it all. A smear of gravy dirties her cheek and she sets her ale down, loudly burping before she hooks an arm around the Inquisitor's shoulder and wipes away the liquid on her cheek.

The larger male qunari and the beared Grey Warden belch themselves before Sera outdoes them with one that's louder and longer than the rest.

The campsite goes silent at the sound and Arwel notices a dark skinned woman in clothes he'd never be able to afford scowl while a bald elf merely shakes his head at the display.

"That's my girl." The Inquisitor gives the other qunari and the Grey Warden a smug look.

That's not something Arwel's used to hearing from anyone with a title, especially one that carries so much weight like the Inquisitor's. He also doesn't need to mention that he has difficulty wrapping his head around anyone with a title sharing a bed with _Sera_, of all people.

And she's also a mage, for Maker's sake.

"I know my face is going to be really messed up when I take these off, Arwel." Inquisitor Adaar says out of the blue, pointing to the bandages on her face. Arwel snaps out of his deep thoughts. "Staring won't make them heal better."

"I-Inquisitor." He stammers, unsure of what to say.

"Herah." She corrects him with a smile. "Sera says my head will burst if anyone feeds my ego even more."

Arwel nods and grins stiffly.

"I've heard that there's been... troubles with the negotiations." Adaar grabs a pitcher and pours it into a mug. She hands it to the young man.

"Thank you." Arwel timidly takes the mug. "And no, I just... um..."

"I hope Inky didn't camp by your tent and leave you 'presents'."

"No, it's just that the Inquisition is really big. Big enough to get a letter from the Empress of Orlais, so I-"

"Wait." Adaar's eyes narrow suspiciously. "What was that?"

The Inner Circle stops and stares.

"The lovely anonymous strikes again, I presume." Says Dorian, who chuckles without a care in the world.

Arwel nearly shrinks at the frown on Adaar's face. He reaches into his pocket and his shaky hands pull out a single envelope with the wax mark—the royal seal.

Adaar's fists clench as he hands the letter to her, recklessly tearing the envelope open. She unfolds the crisp, clean paper inside.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "It seems that we have an invitation to the Winter Palace."

* * *

Alright, so sorry for the long wait last time because I had national exams to do, I was sick, etc etc. Some of you may be wondering why this chapter and the one before it is pretty short. Well, I don't really have a reason except that this is enough information to be revealed in one chapter.

Some people wanted a big fight to happen, and it will... I'm just waiting for the right opportunity. Also, this isn't the last time you'll see one of Adaar's episodes. It's always calm before the storm...

**What do you want to see in the next chapter? If you liked this one, put "i missed u so much bb" in the review box and inflate my ego ;)**


	19. Imaginary Spiders

** T! EDIT:**

**I know a lot of people have read this chapter already so I should just wait until the next chapter to post this message in case no one sees it here, but here goes... **

**How many of you are still actively interested in this story? Reviews have slowed lately and I'm not whining about it, but I've published another fanfic and plan to publish one more, so I'd like to know which one to prioritize based on it's number of active readers. **

**If the interest here has waned, then updates will probably slow down and stuff while I work on the other stuff, and I don't really know how slow it will go. So yeah, who's still here?**

* * *

When Adaar's breath steadies to a slow rhythm, Sera pulls the blanket over the peacefully slumbering woman and leans down to brush her lips lightly across the mage's. She lingers a bit when her lips graze the jagged corner of her mouth, where the long gash stretches all the way to the bottom of her ear.

She had come into the tent looking for answers, but now all she has is more questions.

The tent flap flips open and Sera hears the clinking of heavy boots. "Is she alright?" Sounds a heavy Nevarran accent.

"She is now, yeah." Sera doesn't take her eyes off of Adaar's slumbering face. She strokes slow circles into her cheek and smiles when the qunari nuzzles her hand in her sleep. "Guess all she needed was a lil' lovin' in the sheets, right? Always gets her sleepin' like a baby."

Sera can't see Cassandra, but she does hear the choked sound the warrior makes. She smirks—this never gets old.

The Nevarran kneels by the bedroll, her armored shoulder cold against Sera's exposed one. She's reminded of a conversation from a few nights ago when Adaar has told her about how she loved her tunic and how it gave her easy access.

"Herah is quite the romantic, isn't she?"

"Sure," Sera gives Cassandra a frankly lecherous look. "She'll go from gettin' me some chow and water when I drink too much to throwing me on the bed and going all night."

Cassandra makes another choked noise as she blushes quite visibly. She coughs. "She was very different when I first met her."

That catches Sera's attention. "What are you talking 'bout? Everyone and Cullen's grandma's been sayin' it all day and I've got no shitting clue about nothin'."

Cassandra furrows her brows as if contemplating what to say. "She was... Very much unlike how she is now."

"Yeah, I kinda got that part worked out from ol' Ponytail shittin' his knickers there." Sera impatiently prods.

It takes a moment to register that Sera is talking about Kaariss. Cassandra thinks over her words for a moment. "She is completely taken with you, Sera." She smiles warmly, a face rarely seen on the stoic Seeker's normally rigid face.

Sera rolls her eyes quite vividly. "Yeah, thanks, there's a giant asshole in the sky an' water's wet. When's everyone gonna stop actin' like Buckles set a puppy on fire when she got too drunk one time and tell me what the hell happened, eh? Can't be that bad."

Cassandra gives her a sympathetic nod. "Sera-"

"Shit, never mind." Sera holds her hand up much too close to Cassandra's face than the warrior is comfortable with. One glance to the sleeping mage below is enough to drive the smallest smile to her face. "Buckles said she'd tell me, so I'll wait. And if Kaariss tries to spoil it to me, I'll give his pretty hair a shear while he's dreamin' about bottles of shampoo that don't run out."

"That's very sweet of you, Sera." She says, her tone sincere. "Although you might not want to do that. The frown on his face is sour enough as it is." She smiles a bit.

She stifles her laughter. "Like you better when you're funny." Sera scoffs jokingly. "And what's that supposed to mean? I'm always sweet, I give her a kiss under the breeches when she's had a long day, and... And..." _And she pulled a lot of strings to keep you and your friends safe. Look at what happened to her. _"Stuff."

_Stuff._ She winces. _What did you ever do for her, really? _

"Well, keep doing it." Cassandra gives her a grin that she reserves to show only when reading the latest chapter of Swords and Shields. "I have to admit, I was skeptical at first, Sera... But you're good for her."

_No, you're not_. She nods, suddenly unable to speak.

"I'll be leaving now." Cassandra lifts herself up and turns around. "I wouldn't like to disturb Herah's sleep. Good night, Sera."

"Night."

And the silence that comes after she leaves is heavier than Sera's own tired limbs, and for a good reason—she's exhausted. She hasn't slept a wink and the lack of chatter coming from outside suggests that the soldiers can't say the same for themselves. She drags herself to the flimsy wooden desk on the corner of the tent, where a lone piece of paper lies in the middle. The chair creaks when she sits down on it, and she stares at the wax seal carefully placed next to the letter.

Sera lies her chin down on the table to get a closer look. The royal seal of the queen, deep burgundy and smelling of some light Orlesian perfume.

She's far too tired to deal with this. And so, her eyes close shut.

* * *

_The Arvaraad is here. _

_His face is monotone and expressionless, as usual. The duties of those under his name aren't for the squeamish, after all._

"Wake up, you."

_She can't breathe. The chains and cuffs are too tight. They're closing in on her, she can't move. _

She grasps at the bedroll's rough sheets, letting out a frightened whimper.

"I said wake up!"

_They pull her by the horns and expose her neck. Fingers pry her mouth open and a dirty pair pulls her tongue out. The knife shines like a can't be happening, this will not happen. She still wants to live. _

She howls at the top of her lungs, loud and afraid and cornered.

"Stop it!"

_Kill them with fire. _

She grabs whatever she can reach, rough and gargantuan fingers big enough to circle the shape.

"Snap out of it!" Comes a choked shout.

Embers spark to life between the fingers of her idle hand.

_But the fire isn't enough to save her. Not even close._

She raises it. The flames grow hotter.

_Stop them._

"Buckles, wake the fuck up!"

Her face hurts. She feels it when she sees the light. Sera's eyes are shut, but her hand is extended to the side. Adaar can see it because she's suddenly sitting, there's a quickly diminishing fire in her raised hand, and her head feels like it was violently run into by an angry mabari.

Sera is stronger than she looks.

Adaar has no idea what's going on. The qunari releases the hold she has on Sera's neck as if the contact scalds her fingers. "S-Sera?" She stammers, muddled.

Sera dares to open one eye. The side of Adaar's face is still red from the force of her slap and the stitches she had so carefully sown to close the violent gash is torn open. The edges of skin that hold the thread in place are raw and red, with bits of blood leaking out.

Upon seeing the red finger-shaped marks on Sera's neck, the same one she had trailed her kisses down on and muffled her moans into just hours ago, a heavy weight drops into her gut. Her hand shoots to Sera's cheek. "Shit, Sera-"

Adaar is cut off by a hand clamping down on her mouth. "Shut it, stop talkin'." Sera coughs, her lungs still tight.

"But I-"

"But nothin', now shut it before it gets any worse." Sera sternly says, although there's a shudder in her voice.

And then the pulling and stretching can be felt on the entire side of Adaar's face and her jaw locks in pain. She grumbles and grunts unclearly, all too aware that one mistake will give the wound that will be her biggest facial scar yet a few decorations that she'd rather not have.

Upon hearing multiple rapidly approaching footsteps, Sera faces the door. "Go away! Spider fell on the big girl's face!" She yells. The pair stay silent as they listen to the mumbles and disappearing footsteps until the archer nudges Adaar's face to the side. "Bad dream?" She asks, the color not yet returning to her face. Adaar nods as Sera uses her small fingers to pick the bloodied thread out bit by bit, her hands so steady that the qunari can barely feel it. The archer's lips form a thin line on her face. "I'm gonna have to restitch it back."

"Sorry." Adaar mumbles, her mouth not opening quite enough to say it clearly.

"I'll get some ale for you so you won't feel it too much, 'kay?" Sera prepares to heave herself up before she feels a grip around her fingers.

"No. Just... Just stay here." Comes Adaar's barely audible reply. "Please." She pleads, the shaky voice making up completely for her lack of words.

"Whatever you want." Sera nods. She takes a bottle of alcohol from the box and a dab of cotton, wetting the white fluff with the liquid. She brings it close to the open wound, stopping just before she touches the gash. "Tell me if it hurts too much, yeah?"

Adaar smirks, the action only emphasizing the torn corner of her mouth. "Having a pretty lady handle me helps."

"Smooth fucker." Sera giggles, and lightly dabs the cotton onto her.

Adaar closes her eyes at the contact and flinches as the cold sting seeps into the torn and pierced flesh. Her eyes shut tighter and her jaw clenches more with every touch of the wet cotton, all the way from her mouth's edge to the bottom of her ear.

Full lips press into Adaar's and she relaxes into the kiss. To her lament, it ends before it begins. The moment the lips leave hers, she presses forward to reconnect them, but Sera holds her shoulders back. "Halfway there, Buckles." She chuckles. "Ain't gonna let you sweet talk me into bed now."

"Are you sure?" Adaar raises her eyebrow suggestively.

"Yeah," Sera reaches for the needle and thread, giving Adaar a look of mischief. "Later, though, that I'm up to. Just keep it down this time, yeah? Wouldn't wanna get it stitched up again, do you?"

Adaar pouts. "Oh, but that thing with the tongue and the circles..."

Sera smirks and shushes her before she gives Adaar's lips a kiss. She brings the needle through one hole, neatly pulling the thread in place. Then, the next one. "You get into the shit I do, you'll pick this stabby thing up quick."

Adaar chuckles with her mouth closed at how quick Sera completes her sutures. She's definitely good at this. The needle passes cleanly through the holes and the thread is tight enough to hold and loose enough to be comfortable. Her fists still tighten painfully, but the minutes are over before she knows it. In a flash, the end of the thread is snipped off with a pair of scissors and the length is tied into a knot, and it's done.

"Want me to get the mirror?" Sera gives Adaar a wry grin.

"Why not?" Adaar shrugs.

Sera holds up a finger and fetches a small and simple round mirror from the box and hands it to the mage. Adaar raises the small trinket that seems hilariously small for her and observes.

Only the very kind would say it's a pleasing sight.

"I'm glad you have a thing for scars, Sera."

"It wouldn't leave one if you'd just let someone just, y'know, poof it away." Sera averts her gaze and frowns. When she realizes that Adaar isn't replying and she isn't looking at her, she realizes that maybe she's said too much. "Sorry. Just remembered."

"It's okay." Adaar reassures her with her usual teasing smile, although it seems too strained to be genuine. "I let you fuck me good earlier, didn't I? That's a start. Now come here."

Sera slowly comes forward and seats herself on Adaar's massive lap. She brings her legs around the mage's waist and lets her rest her chin on a slender shoulder. The qunari breathes a long breath into Sera's shoulder blade.

"Thought you said you didn't get 'em nightmares anymore."

"I didn't." Adaar nuzzles closer into her. "This is the first one in come back sometimes, but never this bad." She lifts Sera's chin and examines her neck carefully. "Is it okay?"

Sera nods.

"I'm not gonna let anyone get away with it, you know that?" She rubs small circles into the side of Adaar's head. "Whatever they did to you. And if any of them's still alive and kickin', I'll put an arrow right in their shitter holes."

"I know, love." Adaar chuckles. "And they're all dead. I made sure."

"Good," Sera frowns slightly. "I'd wring 'em all by the dangle bags if they're still walkin' around."

Adaar removes her head from Sera's shoulder and flops back onto the pillow. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Sera laughs at first, and then she yawns a big one in the middle. She stretches her arms like a cat and joins the Tal-Vashoth on the bedroll, draping herself over the qunari like a blanket.

"A ball in the Winter Palace." Adaar shakes her head disbelievingly. "Maybe we'll finally know what the hell is going on once we get there."

Sera groans like a wounded animal at the mention of the event. "Shite, I'm gonna have to go there if I wanna pincushion that son of a bitch myself. Right where it counts. And that's if that arsebiscuit is even there!"

"But of course," Adaar says, amused. "The Inquisitor would like her hot date to be plastered to her arm all night."

Sera's face falls. "Worst date ever." Then something clicks in her head and she gives Adaar that face—the face that any sane person would take as a sign to run very far away. "Unless I get to bring bees. Then I'll come. And honey!"

"My face will be back to it's usual charming self by then, I hope." Adaar yawns.

Sera scoffs and blows a puff of air that parts her shorts bangs for a second before it comes back down. "You'd have a wyvern's face and charm the knickers off me in a second." Then she pauses. "Well, maybe not since they're all _phoom_ when they're tryin' to sear my tits off."

"That's unacceptable." Adaar feigns disgust. "I'll have to look dashing for my lovely date, yes?"

Sera can't help but imagine the scenario. The famous Inquisitor and her honey tongue, dressed in fancy fitted attire in Empress Celene's palace with her—drawing appalled stares and backhanded quips from every noble in Orlais.

The thought both excites and disconcerts her at the same time.

Adaar sees the mixed expression on her face. "Of course, the palace is very big... We could even sneak off for a little alone time." She wriggles her eyebrows with a wide grin on her face.

Seeing Adaar completely missing the point, she shakes her head and scratches her nose nervously. "I... Buckles..." Sera suddenly finds herself at a loss for words.

The grin flies away from Adaar's face quickly. "What's wrong?"

"You wanna take me to that slimy toad pond as your woman?" Sera looks at her with a mixture incredulity and flattery.

Adaar nods slowly, and Sera can't help but see how completely adorable the puzzled expression on her face is. "You can just stay back. I know you'd hate it there."

"I fuckin' hate the place and I've never been in it." Sera sneers at the idea of being stuffed in a stuffy formal suit or dress, chitchatting with Lords and Madams and whatnot. Then she grunts begrudgingly. "But shit if I ain't curious 'bout what we're gonna find there." She says in a lower voice. "Only good thing about this whole pish is seein' you in formal stuff." She dreamily scans Adaar from top to bottom.

Adaar chuckles. "And I'll need someone to stop me from acting stupid when all those compliments get to my head."

It's time to call the tailor.

* * *

**So... tired. Jet lagged...**

**Need coffee. Say 'coffee' in the review box to show me this chapter didn't completely suck. Who likes Sera teasing Cassandra?**

**So yeah, this is just a filler chapter before we reach the ball. For those who put in requests before, I haven't forgotten about you. One of the... kinkier ones will happen soon ;).**

**So, just in case you didn't notice the title of this fanfic, stuff is gonna happen in the ball...**


	20. IMPORTANT

**Hi, readers. I don't usually post these note things individually, but I need to ask you something:**

**How many of you are still interested in this story?**

**I promise I'm not whining about reviews, it's just that I'm starting other fanfics and I'm wondering which ones I should prioritize first. I've decided to update more often for the ones that get more attention because I don't like keeping people waiting, which is why I kinda have to know how many of you are still reading this to see which one I should update more often, this one or my other fanfic, "Fury", which has had pretty good reception so far. **

**Please let me know because I'm also working on a third fanfic and updates might slow to a crawl (I'm being honest) if only a few people are reading. Thanks! **


	21. Untitled

Edit: **I am not discontinuing the story.**

**From now on, I will keep track of all my stories and the ones that get more attention will be prioritized more than the ones that don't, to be fair to the readers. Thanks for letting me know ya'll are still out there!**

**IF YOU ARE A REGULAR READER LET ME KNOW. Sorry for yelling because no one reads the notes otherwise, lol.**

Madame Bellerose purses her lips slightly irritatedly, starting to feel the heat under her layered crimson dress. "Inquisitor, I must insist that you take off the majority of your clothing for these measurements."

"I'm sorry, Madame, but I have quite the nasty wound on my side. It hurts to even walk." Adaar effortlessly lies, giving the woman her best apologetic smile. "I'm very exhausted at the moment."

The Orlesian does remember seeing the qunari with that one woman who looks suspiciously like the Champion of Kirkwall, but that can't be, so she decides to forget about it. "Oh yes, forgive me." She says in a thick accent. "Ambassador Montilyet _did_ ask me here because you are not yet fit to make the journey to Val Royeaux." She looks like she's that close to slapping herself in the face. "Oh, for me to forget the entire reason I came here..."

"That's quite alright, Madame Bellerose." Adaar remains seated on her chair. "I know it was a very long and bumpy ride here."

The tailor sighs forlornly. "I shall get to the others' measurements, then. I should be quick so I don't lose sight of that troublesome looking knife-ear again."

Adaar stifles a bout of laughter. "Have you checked the room on the highest tower? The one with 'booty call' carved into the door in capital letters?"

"Is that not your room, Inquisitor?" Madame Bellerose asks curiously. "Why would-... oh. _Oh_." She draws out, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"That 'knife-ear' has helped the Inquisition in very valuable ways, Madame." Adaar gives the woman a definitely not malicious smile. "In fact, probably one third of our funding comes from her." She may be exaggerating just a bit, but it really is true that Sera's lockpicking has sacked them many sacks of loot, some of which are very valuable in the market.

Madame Bellerose takes a moment to speak again. "I apologize, Inquisitor." She has to force herself not to stammer under Adaar's analytical gaze. Even when injured, a mage is still dangerous, after all. "I didn't know-"

"I think a title or a name is more appropriate than a racial slur, don't you think?" Adaar's right leg and side throbs with pain, but she bites her lip and doesn't show it. She takes two steps closer to the Orlesian, two steps too close for the mortified woman.

Having to crane her neck up to face the qunari, Madame Bellerose takes a step back and clutches her leather handbag in her hands. It rustles with the measuring tapes and other miscellaneous objects within as she nervously treads towards the foor, never taking her eyes off the large qunari. "I'll... go measure the others first." She says, quickly shutting the door.

Adaar can hear the _click clack_ of her heels as she runs away.

* * *

"And that's how it happened." Adaar wraps up her story, unbuttoning the last button on her shirt and leaving it on a pile on her bed.

Sera guffaws as she rolls the measuring tape around Adaar's waist. Inky perks her head up at the sound and gets back to lounging in the balcony, a perfect spot to soak in the sun. Dorian had given it to her, saying that Madame Bellerose understands if the Inquisitor is shy about stripping in front of a stranger. "She ran away? Like, really ran away after you said that shit?"

Adaar lifts her arms up enough not to hurt the healing wounds by her sides. "Yeah. I think she tripped over a bucket or something, based on the sound of splashing and loud Orlesian swearing."

Sera laughs so loud that Adaar wonders how she keeps the tape steady. "You're the best, you know that?" Inky barks in agreement as Sera jots down on a piece of paper.

"No one talks about my woman like that." Adaar says, shivering a little when Sera rests her forehead against her back.

Sera dismisses the words easily. "What, you mean the 'knife-ear' thing? I'm gonna get 'er good for that, even if I'm used to bein' called that." She pulls the tape back and rolls it up neatly. "We're done."

"I know you deal with those people with your own ways, but tell me about them the next time they flap their gums about you, okay?" She turns around and holds the elf around her waist, pressing her lips to the tip of a long, pointed ear. "I'd like to have a long word with them."

"You're gonna be huntin' down half of Skyhold." Sera giggles and shrugs. "And most of Orlais. Three fourths of everyone in Ferelden who's got 'Lord' in front of their name. City guards everywhere." She puffs out her chest proudly, although she fails to hide the uncomfortable hitch in her voice.

As always, Adaar notices that something's off. "Sera?"

The archer groans and swivels out of Adaar's hold quite easily, leaving the giantess muddled as she joins Inky on the balcony. It's not a wise choice—she looks down to see soldiers training in the courtyard, merchants selling their wares, the healers looking after the sick, and more. They look like ants from up here, a swarm of them. She closes her eyes in frustration, not wanting to even think of how many people down there raise their swords for her Inquisitor.

The cold air nips at Adaar's mostly bare torso. She regrets not bringing out her coat, but she supposes it's too late—there are more important things that need her attention. "Something bothering you, love?"

"Ugh, don't call me that." Sera grumbles, her voice unusually soft.

Adaar's face falls at those words. Sera doesn't turn around, but she can see it in her mind—see the impossibly sensitive forest green eyes blink in confusion while her lips curve downwards. The multitude of scars give the heartbreaking illusion of her face cracking at the seams before it falls to the ground and crashes into little pieces. "Are you upset with me?" Adaar asks, her voice shaking just a little.

"No, stupid." Sera turns and finally faces the woman. "I'm not upset with you. Shit. I could never be upset with you. You're so..." She fists her hands in her soft blonde locks. "So _you_."

Adaar slowly closes the distance between her and the shorter woman. "Then what's the problem?"

"Look at you." She traces the line of stitches on the qunari's face, eyes taking in the remaining bandages over her torso. No one else knows how grievous they are except for her. She's the one who changes them every day, after all. "You did this because of me."

"No," Adaar vehemently denies. "I did it because I wanted to."

Sera's head tips into Adaar's chest. She smells gauze and disinfectants, a smell that's accompanied the mage for much too long now. "But you did it because of me."

"I wanted to do it."

"I didn't."

Adaar takes a deep breath and laces her fingers into Sera's hair, closing her eyes. "When they hit you, I panicked. I didn't know what else I could do."

"Anythin' else." Sera's voice trembles and she has to fight to keep it from breaking. "You got off easy, you twit, you could have ended up dead." The sentence ends in a sour tone. "It's my fight to fight, I don't want nobody taking the hits for me. Especially not you."

"Sera, we got a lot out of-"

"Bullshit." Sera shakes her head and meets Adaar's eyes with a piercing gaze. "I know you pulled a lot of strings to keep my friends safe. You don't have to make me feel good 'bout it. I can't let you do this shit for me."

"Anyone else would." Adaar chortles a little. "I'm the Inquisitor now."

"Not me."

"I know."

Sera doesn't miss the fact that Adaar never said 'yes'.

After that, the mage goes to meet Varric and the woman Sera saw her with earlier, the one with short brown hair and a red smear across her nose. She doesn't see her again until late noon.

A messy pile of dirty bandages is tossed to the dust bin. Adaar sighs, pleased, when the skin that's been held under the layers of cotton are finally exposed to the cool air for just a few short moments before it's soothed by warmth. Before long, Sera dips the cloth back into the bucket and brings it up again. She wrings the faded fabric and droplets fall back down before she presses it to a single slash on Adaar's upper back that's not quite healed yet. The skin has begun to come back together, but it's still red around the edges.

That's just one of the wounds Sera cleans this evening. She's so focused in her scrutinizing of every single wound, keeping track of how fast they're closing and how well, that she doesn't even notice that Adaar has barely uttered a word.

"I hated them, you know."

Sera's hand pauses. "What?"

"The scars." Adaar answers, turning her wrist over to observe the jagged lines circling them for the thousandth time in her life. "I used to scrub my skin until they bled, just trying to get them off me when I bathe."

"Sorry." Sera just almost whispers. The lines of red on the qunari's body will mark some new ones, when they're healed. _And they're all because of you_.

"Don't be." Adaar tells her. "These ones, I don't mind. I chose to get them, unlike... unlike back then." She finishes, unwilling to recall any more of that one night.

Sera drops the cloth into the bucket for the final time and fetches the jar of gauze beside her. "You don't have to tell me now, you hear? I'll wait 'till you can do it." It's her Buckles, after all, how bad could it be?

"I _can_ do it." Adaar says, exasperatedly. "I just... can't." _But she has to know._

Sera lightly spreads the gauze over the wounds, slowing down when Adaar twitches in pain. "I'm not asking you to. I know you, Buckles. I know you're just a big slobbery puppy. Harmless."

Adaar makes an offended face. "I do not drool." _You know this won't end well._

"Look at yourself the next time you ogle me at practice, yeah?" Sera recalls the time Adaar received a bad shield bash to the face one chilly morning. It lead to a bad cut on her eyelid.

"But that leather chest piece..." Adaar protests pathetically.

Sera checks the bandages to make sure they'll stay on. "Shut up, you perv. Put on your clothes, we're goin' out."

"_You're_ calling me a perv?"

"Hurry the fuck up, Buckles!" Sera calls out before she steps onto her bed-couch and out of the window. "I'm gonna grow a damn beard if you don't!" She yells from outside.

* * *

The chef's raisin cookies are alright. It's not gourmet food, but it's perfectly fine for something she gets for free. Sometimes she even snacks on them during her paperwork sessions. Sure, they're crumbly and makes her throat a bit too dry for her liking, but it's okay.

"They're horrible, right? And raisins, ugh!" Sera groans, although she keeps munching on them anyway. "I frigging still hate cookies!"

Ah, the usual antics. "I never thought I'd hear you say that you hate food." Adaar chuckles and takes another bite. The damn things have grown on her.

"I got caught stealing when I was little, yeah?" Sera says, a few crumbs falling onto her lap. "You get alienage or worse for that, but the 'Lady Emmald' took me in."

Adaar swallows the dry bits of raisins and oats. "Now this is new. What brought this on?"

Sera pays no heed to the question. Adaar takes this as a hint to shut up. "She was sick and couldn't have children. I had no parents. It worked out." She's about to take another bite, but then puts it down. "Anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask her about cookies. Because mums make cookies. I can pass that down, or something."

Adaar can't help but think about little Sera sometimes. Still so naive and innocent. She tries not thinking about abandonment, starving and being chased around by city guards for crimes she did or didn't do.

"Turns out, she couldn't cook." The corner of Sera's lips twitch as she says this with biting contempt. "She missed that talk with _her_ mum. The ones she 'made' were bought and pretended."

Bingo.

"Aw, right?" Sera smiles adorably. Then, before Adaar can open her mouth, the smile turns into a sour frown. "Well, no, she was a bitch. She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She kept me from everyone, said they wouldn't accept me. I spent every day inside that manor, only talking to the maids and the cook. She did _that _by lying that they didn't like me. Didn't like _elves._"

Adaar just nods, the cookies in her hand completely forgotten. She had almost forgotten that in many cities, elves are only permitted to stay in alienages.

"She let me hate so she could protect her pride. I hated him so much, and I hated..." She clenches her hand, the cookies falling apart and onto the roof below. "Then I started hearing stuff from people. That Grey Warden, what's her name again?"

"Warden Cousland, the queen?"

"Yeah, her. She came to town and had this fancy healer old lady with her. So Lady Emmald went to her to get herself healed, maybe, so I was there alone with the servants." Sera's jaw clenches as her voice begins to strain. "It was a piece of cake to sneak by 'em and I took some eggs and threw them in the baker's window. I didn't know he was oiling his oven or something like that, and I hit him and it nearly burned down the whole place. Guards got me and I was kicking at them when they dragged me away, screaming at that poor baker that I hated him." She takes a deep breath. "Then he told me he had no idea what I was talking about, and then he said that Lady Emmald bought his cookies every single day. The cookies she said she made for me!"

Adaar doesn't even need to ask if she was okay. She sees Sera's face trying to hold together the poisonous scowl, but then she trembles and it falls apart into resignation. No anger, no hatred, just hurt that's been festering like an untreated wound.

"The guards dragged me off before Lady Emmald even knew what happened, not just to the alienage, but the alienage _prison_." She spits out the word like it's venom in her mouth. "They fed me once a day with shit meant for dogs." From inside the room, Inky's ears perk up. "When she found out what happened, she came to see me every day and brought me food, but I wouldn't touch it even if all I had to eat was moldy bread. She may as well have brought me actual shit."

Adaar feels her chest tighten. "What did they do to you?" She just nearly growls.

"They hit me. Everywhere. Starved me. Put food in front of my cell just far enough so I can't reach it. Then they'd laugh and eat it." She says, her eyes far away. "They argued about whether to sell me as a slave or to a... you know." Then she grins, bright as usual. "But joke's on them. I got so thin I just turned sideways and slid out of the cell. Took this sleeping guard's bow and arrow and never looked back."

"You're one tough cookie." Adaar stops. "Pun not intended."

Sera cocks her head to the side. "You don't think it's stupid?"

"What? No." Adaar chuckles. "Why would I think it's stupid?"

Sera huffs. "Well, I always thought it was. Some idiot kid who let everyone lie to her, control her."

"I'm going to pay them a visit."

"There you go again," Sera scoots next to the qunari, sighing exasperatedly. "Going around, trackin' down people who look at me wrong. It's fine, really. I'll probably give them hell if I ever see them again. But you, you're not like me."

Adaar holds her breath. "I was under the impression that we have a lot in common."

"You're goin' ways, Buckles." She smiles faintly. "Look at everyone."

And she does. There's Cullen drilling his men and women by the courtyard, Josephine receiving a foreign diplomat by the main entrance. A little boy and his pet nug are playing chase by the tavern.

"You did this." She touches the forming scar on Adaar's cheek. She can see that it's going to leave a hefty mark. "I did this."

"Sera-"

"No." She silences her. "I want you to promise you won't do it again. I can't watch you do this for me and just let you get blown to bits. I know you, that's what it's gonna come to in the end, I know it."

Adaar gulps at Sera's eyes bore into hers. "I can't."

"Then I'll do the same thing if you get fucked up again." Sera says. It's not a threat, just a statement that she'll turn into reality.

Adaar smirks and kisses her. She can still taste the dry oats on her lips as she breaks away. "It won't come to that." She promises. "Having you get mad at me is worse than having a barrel of explosives explode in my face. And believe me, that wasn't a nice experience."

Sera blushes and coughs awkwardly. "So... I thought you and I could make some cookies. So I won't hate them again."

"You and I... baking?" Laughter hangs on the edge of her tongue as Adaar imagines herself in a pink apron, stirring a comparatively tiny bowl of batter with her gigantic hand.

"Ugh, I knew you'd think it was stupid." Sera crosses her arms, seemingly misunderstanding the slight sound of glee.

"There's that word again." Adaar kisses the elf's cheek. The flustered archer's cheeks burn even more at the action. "Listen, I will never think of you as stupid. I'm your woman, and I don't think a stupid girl would make it this far after all that, right? I was laughing because I was imagining myself in a frilly pink apron and a baker hat, thank you very much."

Sera surprises the taller woman by pushing her down and climbing on top of her, interrupting Adaar's infuriating smirking with a hot, eager kiss. "I could fuck you right here on the roof, you got that?" She says, between hard breaths and clinking teeth. Even when her tongue is meeting and enticing her qunari's, the grin on her face still persists.

"Why don't you do just that, then?" Adaar boldly dares.

Sera beams. "No shit?"

"Nada. And I'll ask for baking lessons from... someone. I'll figure it out."

She's had a lot of practice winding up the calm, charismatic Inquisitor until she's close to snapping. When she does snap, it makes the lay that much better. With that much practice, it's easy for her to zip open Adaar's trousers with just one hand and slide her hands inside. She teases her and teases her until the wetness coats her fingers, and then she moves to the best parts.

Adaar insists on doing it while they're seated next to each other like they're in a conversation so she can cross her hands across her lap and _sort of_ conceal the fingers stuck down her pants, pumping her deep and making her legs melt to putty.

A gasp. Sera doesn't think she's ever seen the grey of Adaar's cheeks so flushed before. The qunari's toes curl as Sera rubs her folds tortuously slowly, her two fingers snugly capturing the small gathering of nerves between. Adaar bucks her hips slowly, discreetly, biting her finger to hold back a whine at the back of her throat.

Sera tightens her fingers and Adaar's mind whites out. She kicks the cookie jar off the roof.

The jar makes an audible _thunk_ as it cracks onto someone's skull."Maker!"

"Oops! Cassandra." Sera snorts. "You did it!"

Adaar lets her guard down in shock after she hears that voice. "C-Cassandra?" She immediately slaps her hand to her mouth, cursing herself for giving away her presence.

"Herah, is that you?" Cassandra loudly coughs. "What in the world is this?" She coughs.

"I-I'm sorry. I dropped it." Adaar squeaks, glaring at Sera to remove her hand from her pants immediately.

"Are you on the _roof_?"

"Yes!" Her voice cracks. She hisses as Sera hits a particularly sensitive spot.

Cassandra taps her foot impatiently. "What are you doing up there?"

"I'm fingerfucking Inquisitor Herah Adaar, Seeker!" Sera lowers her voice, giggling halfway as she says this in a serious tone. "She is very preoccupied at the moment. It must be all the stress from that tall as fuck mountain of papers she has to sign!"

To Adaar's horror, armored fingertips appear from the edge of the roof. She can't believe it. Cassandra shouldn't be able to jump that high, and there's no way she can pull herself up by her fingers.

Then again, the Seeker is also ridiculously strong.

Sera winks, making absolutely no effort to stop, and then Cassandra hoists herself up. Adaar feels a little part of her die when she sees a braided head of hair pop up as the Nevarran's armored foot clink against the roof.

Adaar wants to tear out her horns when she sees the warrior's face. Bits of brown and little raisins stick to her face, some stuck in her hair. A little chunk falls from Cassandra's cheekbone as she turns her head up and sees that Sera was not fucking with her in the slightest.

She really is fingerfucking the Inquisitor.

Her jaw drops. "Oh." And then she sees that the hand in Adaar's pants is still moving, despite the blood rushing to every inch of the mage's face, and she steps back in astonishment, thereby falling off.

Adaar's mouth gapes and she leaps forward to save her, but she's too late. Sera's hand is forced out and Adaar trips.

"Is this a cookie jar-"

_Thump._ Dorian curses loudly. "Cassandra, what in the-" _Thump._ "Herah, what is your-" He falls silent. "Why is your zipper open?"

* * *

**I am not discontinuing the story.**

**From now on, I will keep track of all my stories and the ones that get more attention will be prioritized more than the ones that don't, including this one, to be fair to the readers. **

**IF YOU ARE A REGULAR READER, LET ME KNOW.**


	22. Compensation

**Congratulations, readers!**

**Last week's chapter got more reviews than last week's chapter of my other story, so we have an earlier update today for y'all to read after you get home from school/work! Remember, more feedback = more updates. Enjoy this short interlude from the plot meat!**

* * *

"_Bugger off, I'm sleeping!" Sera yells at whoever it is who thinks they can just knock on her door at this hour. _

"_That's not very nice." Comes a muffled voice. _

_Immediately, Sera bolts to the door and opens it with such gusto that she nearly squishes her own toe with the corner of the dingy piece of wood. "Buckles!" She exclaims at the qunari, whose bloodshot eyes seem like they're going to close at any second. She has no idea why Adaar is wearing a long sleeved shirt to sleep, but she doesn't really give a damn. _

"_Now that's the greeting I was hoping for." Adaar gives her a weak smile. _

"_What are you doing up now, huh?" Sera yawns. _

"_Can't sleep." She replies, biting her lip nervously. She coughs. "Um, can I stay here tonight?" _

_Sera snorts. "Yeah, if you can fit on the bed." _

_Adaar is too tired to even wriggle her eyebrows. "Oh, I can, if you lie on top of me. Shame, yes?" _

"_C'mere, you." _

Adaar slept like a baby that night, even Sera's elbows were digging into her stomach all night. The next day, she asked to stay with her again, then the next, and so on. Sera just assumed the big buffoon just wanted a little cuddle as she slept, and that was probably true, but she knows why the qunari insisted on sleeping with her every night after she kissed her for the first time—night terrors.

The thought flies into Sera's absent mind as she lounges on Adaar's massive bed, watching the mage's back as she scribbles away on a paper, occasionally setting one away only to take another one from the mountain of letters and other things she needs to approve and sign.

When Adaar yawns for the third time this afternoon, Sera just can't help it. "Go to sleep already, Buckles. What are you doing, anyway?" She asks, bouncing off the bed.

"Signing letters. Josephine writes them, I sign." She says, propping her chin on her elbow.

Sera whistles. "That's a fuckin' lot to write. I've got to give it to her."

Adaar replies with a measly "Hmm."

Sera heads towards the door, looking back before she leaves. "You want some coffee?"

"Coffee sounds better than sex right now." Adaar replies halfheartedly.

"Be right back, then."

At the sound of the door closing, Adaar seriously contemplates lying down on her desk and taking a two hour nap. She has no idea how Josephine manages to do this all day. In fact, she's just about to doze off when a knock on the door startles her awake. "Come on in!" She barely musters the strength to say it loud enough.

The door squeaks open too slowly for it to be Sera. "I-Inquisitor?"

No way. "Madame Bellerose?" Adaar turns to the door for confirmation.

There she is, Madame Bellerose. Today, she's wearing a simpler cyan dress that suits her blonde hair in a very lovely way, and she has a wooden box as long as her forearm and as wide as her neck in her clutches. "Inquisitor." She clears her throat. "I came to apologize for the other day, so I ordered this from one of my associates."

Adaar drops her quill carelessly on her desk, eyeing the wooden box curiously. "Is that a dildo, Madame Bellerose?"

The tailor's eyes immediately shoot open that the very notion. "Why, Inquisitor, if I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were a psychic."

"Wait, what?" Adaar shakes her head. Perhaps she heard her wrong.

"It's not a dildo, Inquisitor." Madame Bellerose seems repulsed by the idea. "It's much better."

Adaar laughs long and hard as the Orlesian watches her with annoyance. "You jest, surely."

"No, Inquisitor, I am not joking." She approaches the qunari slowly. "I am aware that you must have difficulty finding the right... tools, because they are all so very small for a woman of your size, yes?"

One look at the Madame's face confirms that she's not joking. "Uh..." Adaar can't believe that she's at a loss for words now. "Are you talking about..."

"Of course I'm talking about sex." The blonde replies in a sing-song voice. "I saw you fall on that poor, good looking Tevinter boy yesterday."

Adaar buries her face in her hands. "Oh, Maker, don't remind me." She mumbles.

"Exactly!" Madame Bellerose beams. "Which is why I got you these, so you don't have to resort to such antics on the roof to sate your appetite!"

Adaar opens an eye. "These?"

"Yes." She nods, then turns to the door of the room, which is still open. "Commander! Where are you?!"

It's just now that Adaar notices the distant sound of panting. "Coming!" Cullen grunts.

"Cullen?" The qunari doesn't delay and goes to see the man immediately, only to be cut off when said commander collapses in front of her door with an enormous sack by his side. Various sounds of clutter escape the sack as it falls to the ground unceremoniously.

Cullen raises a hand to signal that he's fine, despite the bullets of sweat raining down his face and his lungs on the verge of collapsing.

"Commander, please be careful with those." Madame Bellerose chastises the poor man. "They're worth a lot and it was not easy having them sent here on such short notice!"

"F-Forgive me, Madame."

Adaar gulps. "Madame Bellerose, please tell me you didn't get anything too freaky."

The tailor seems taken aback. "Why, Inquisitor, you seem like a woman who enjoys... um... unorthodox fetishes."

"Explain what you mean by that, please." Adaar's eyebrow almost twitches.

The Orlesian smirks and her eyes darken. "You look like a woman who likes a little roughness in bed, yes? Perhaps you want your lover helpless as you ravish her until she begs for release, or perhaps you would like to be tied to the bedpost, with no power at all but to scream and-"

The scent of freshly made coffee hits Adaar's nose. "Hey, what's that thing on the ground?"

The combined weight of her drowsiness and Madame Bellerose's words completely diverted her attention from Sera's entrance. Inky follows her close by her heels, sniffing the sack with curiosity.

"I'm wondering that myself." Adaar mutters.

"Aw, don't be grumpy." Sera winks and holds up the steaming mug.

The qunari gladly inhales the scent and exhales again. "Ah, the elixir of life." She grins lazily and takes a heavenly sip.

"Inky, down!" Cullen crosses his arms and stares down the mabari. "That's not a toy!"

Inky defiantly shakes her head, a magenta colored, vaguely cylindrical object in her mouth. She pants gladly as she drools all over the object.

"Inquisitor!" Madame Bellerose shouts, horrified. "Call down your mabari, that one is enchanted!"

Sera squints her eyes disbelievingly. "Is that a fuckin' dildo?"

"No, it is not." The tailor replies bluntly. "It is a strap on, enchanted with an electricity rune too!"

"That sounds like it hurts like shit." Sera grimaces and shudders. "It hasn't got straps, how is it a strap on? it's shaped like a bent dildo with bunny ears!"

"That," She points to a vague place that no one can pinpoint due to Inky shaking the object too furiously. "Goes inside the wearer. The 'bunny ears' stimulates the wearer's clitoris." Madame Bellerose says without a pause. Cullen awkwardly tries to seem as if he's not listening to her. "And it does not electrocute you, it _vibrates_."

"Interesting." Adaar clicks her tongue, and Inky immediately drops the object at her feet. The mage picks up the dildo, still soaked in the mabari's drool. The hound barks proudly. "How do you turn it on?"

"Maker, I walked all the way from the mountains to bring sex toys for the Inquisitor?" Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose.

Madame Bellerose nods, not the slightest bit guilty. "You are a mage. Simply cast an electricity spell, just a small one, and it will start to work. When the intensity gets too low, cast another one."

Adaar zaps the toy with a sliver of electricity. True to the Orlesian's words, it begins vibrating at a reasonable pace. A wicked grin crosses her face—perhaps she can have her revenge for the roof incident.

"Oh well, at least it's not one of those dick shaped ones." Sera shudders. "And stop staring at me like that, that thing's too small for you to wear." Sera confidently cocks her head. "If that thing's going in anyone, it's going in you."

Cullen coughs. "Um, I should get going..."

"Oh, come on, General Uptight, loosen up!" Sera giggles, pointing her thumb to the strap on. "If you know what I mean..."

"I need to do some paperwork." Cullen blushes and rushes to the stairs.

Adaar chuckles at the commander's hasty exit. "Poor Cullen. Maybe we should get him a dildo."

"It's a strap on, Inquisitor." Madame Bellerose corrects. "Anyway, I shall leave the two of you to inspect the contents of the shipment yourselves. I'm fairly sure I don't need to explain any further." She says, her chin in the air with pride as she walks down the stairs. The _click-clack_ of her heels fade away until they disappear completely.

Without any need for encouragement, Sera dumps all of the sack's contents onto the bed. "Holy shit."

"How much money did she spend on these things?" Adaar's surely impressed by the Orlesian's attention to detail.

There's a set of matching lace lingerie in red, which Sera picks up to observe closely. "They're my size." She says, as if she doesn't believe it.

Adaar lifts up what definitely is a blindfold, and then a bottle of some flowery smelling perfume. She sniffs a bar of soap. "Chocolate." She chuckles. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Sera tosses aside a qunari-sized pair of crotchless panties, wondering why the hell Adaar couldn't just go commando instead of wearing those.

"The soap. It smells like chocolate." Adaar holds the bar under Sera's nose.

Sera takes a deep sniff, a smile on her face as she exhales. "Shit, that smells good enough to eat."

"I'll be using this from now on, then." Adaar's lips turn upwards in an impish smile. "I'll have to ask Madame Bellerose for more."

"Oh, put this on too!" Sera gestures towards one of the outfits on the bed.

Adaar picks it up and holds the purple bra to her chest. "This is a replica of a tamassran's robes. Well, a sexy version, anyway." She turns it around. "It's... eerily accurate."

"That tit thing is a bra?" Sera squints, imagining how Adaar would look in it. She soon decides that it doesn't matter—she's fuck her even if she was wearing a trash bag.

Adaar nods as she sifts through the variety of objects on the bed. Massage oil, actual chocolate and a pair of handcuffs. Her heart races at the very sight of them, but curiosity gets the better of her as she picks it up between her fingers. They're definitely big and meant for qunari. "They're meant for me." She has to fight the stutter in her voice. She can almost feel the iron clasps cutting their way into her skin, smell the scent of coppery iron filling her nostrils.

Upon seeing that blank look on Adaar's face again, Sera nicks the pair right from Adaar's fingers and tosses them to the corner of the room. "No, they're not."

Adaar sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. It still gets to me sometimes."

"Don't be sorry about it." Sera frowns and sits close to her. "Why should you be sorry, huh?"

"I don't want you to carry my baggage for me, Sera." She answers, a slight tremor to her voice. "I want to be a good woman for you."

Sera looks at her and shakes her head with a small grin. "You already are, Buckles." She sheepishly kisses the qunari's cheek, the rough line of her scar brushing her lips. Without pulling away, she wraps her arms around Adaar's shoulders. "You're already more than I could hope for, yeah? So there."

Adaar smiles and kisses the crown of Sera's head. "Oh, Sera, what would I be without you?"

_Still the Inquisitor, except without the troublesome girlfriend who can't do anything but make things harder for poor Buckles and her poor face_. Sera tells the voice to shut up. She's not supposed to feel like this. "Probably lonely in bed every night, without anyone to touch you in places."

"Sera?"

"Uhuh? What is it?"

"Can I ask you to do something?" Adaar asks, taking Sera's hands into hers.

The large thumb traces incorrigible patterns into the back of her hand, so soft in spite of the callouses from years of hard work. "Yeah. What is it?"

Adaar flashes her the most charming smile she can manage, raising an eyebrow for good measure. "It's very important."

"Spit it out!"

"Can you wear that red lingerie tonight? Please?" She pleads with her best puppy eyes.

Sera takes a second to take it in, and then she smirks. "Why should I?"

Adaar gives her a pout so powerful that the archer can scarcely believe she can make that face without being grievously wounded. "It's so cold at night, love." She says with a sickeningly sweet voice. "It would mean the world to be if a beautiful lady such as yourself would kindly warm my bed for me."

Sera widens her eyes, making her best impression of an innocent maiden. "Oh, Inquisitor, you say that to all the ladies."

"Inquisitor!" Comes a distant call.

Adaar groans. "Yes?" She yells.

Scout Harding's pants echo throughout the staircase, and when she finally reaches the room, her cheeks are a rosy hue of red as she tries to breathe. "I-Inquisitor, Inky is running all over the hold with a dildo in her mouth. She's camping in one of the stalls right now and the parents are absolutely furious and trying to hide their children from her. I have no idea whose-" She finally sees the pile of items on the bed. "Oh."

* * *

**As usual, I keep track of the number of regular readers to know which of my stories I should update. Drop in and say hi if you're a regular reader! Since last week's chapter got more reviews than the one on my other story, this week's chapter is up faster than the other one's. **

**Also as usual, since I'm pretty sure a lot of people skip the AN, I want to ask you all if you want to take another short, sexy interlude from the plot meat? A short, sexy interlude that may have strap ons (want or not? Tell me.) or other kinky stuff... It will take a chapter of fluffy/smutty (both?) stuff before we resume full speed!**


	23. Rawr

**As usual, I update my stories based on which ones have more regular readers, so please drop in and let me know if you're one of them :). I'm also writing another fanfiction and working on a collab, so if I see that interest has waned, I may slow things down a bit to do some other stuff, so drop in if you want me hurry the fuck up and update!**

I'm very rapidly falling for Varric/Cassandra, and I want soooo much to write something for it but I don't have time for another full length story arghhhh.

**EDIT: REUPDATED BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE CLAIMED THE ALERT EMAIL DIDN'T SHOW UP FOR THEM.**

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"Ow." Adaar winces as she pulls her arms to allow Sera to slide her coat off and place them on the foot of the bed.

Slender arms snake under the qunari's sore ones, making their way to undo the buttons of her shirt. Sera lies her chin on Adaar's shoulder, pressing her lips on a tender spot on the Knight-Enchanter's cheek, where the pommel of Iron Bull's sword made a sickening crunch as it came in contact with her cheekbone this morning. "Poor puppy." She mutters into Adaar's ear as the last button comes undone.

"Hey," Adaar chuckles when a stray hand gropes her breast before it reaches for the clasp in front. "I got him too."

"I don't like seeing my big girl all beat up." Sera responds, unclasping Adaar's brassiere. "Except when Cassandra's doing it and you're hitting her back. Then it's just hot."

Adaar laughs in agreement. "I never thought I would enjoy getting punched in the face until I was introduced to our lovely Seeker's knuckles."

Sera opens the lid of of the small bottle she prepared, taking a whiff. She doesn't recognize the scent. She knows it's massage oil and it smells like some kind of flower, but she has no idea what kind. There's probably a reason for that; Sera wonders if it's imported. "You'd better not like it too much, or else Cassandra's getting a haircut and you're sleeping on the couch."

Adaar responds by turning her head and leaning in for a kiss, anticipating the taste of ale, sweets and pastries. She has long associated those tastes to Sera, completely unable to eat or drink them without remembering goodnight kisses and hot, passionate ones shared late into the night.

Sera holds up a finger, effectively stopping the qunari. Without saying a word, she pours some of the oil into her hand and begins gently rubbing it on the expanse of Adaar's back.

"But Sera..." Adaar pouts pitifully. "I didn't see you at all today. I was out all morning until noon because I had to babysit that son of a bitch Count, and then I went straight to the war room."

Sera can't help the small smile on her face as she listens to the qunari begin to rant about how the Count kept demanding Inquisition troops at his manor to keep his garden clear from 'peasants', completely ignoring her when she refused to do so, and then calling her an overgrown cow.

Adaar wisely leaves out the part about him asking about the 'uneducated knife-ear' rumors.

Sera only half-listens to Adaar's increasingly loud rambling as she begins to work the qunari's shoulders, slick with oil and tense from her hard day of work. The archer has been told many times that she's stronger than she looks, and that's a little known fact that she's putting to good use.

She kneads the knots and sores expertly, grinding with her palms and fingers, she finds that her lover's words are slowing. Adaar's enthusiastic rant has been reduced to no more than a series of long, winded words that seem to carry no more malice in them. Her neck eventually grows slack, hanging loosely forward as her shoulders finally lose all tension.

"Finally relax?" Sera finally asks, pressing a small kiss to the back of the qunari's neck.

Adaar makes a barely audible hum of contentment at the warmth pooling on her back, finally losing the willpower to hold in a small, pleased whine.

Squeezing her mage's shoulders none too lightly, Sera ghosts her lips over Adaar's earlobe. "So strong." She teases, lightly nipping the tip of a pointed ear as her hands soothe hard, rippling muscles that seem all the more alluring with the oil's soft sheen. "Really like how hard Cassandra's been drilling you, Buckles."

"I like watching _you_ watch Cassandra drill me." Adaar replies, remembering just in the nick of time to not turn her head and whack Sera in the face with her horns, when wandering hands begin to roam her abdomen. She feels Sera's breasts press suggestively against her back, rising and falling with her breaths."I'm guessing this isn't part of the back massage program?"

"I'll give you a little extra something 'cause you gave me that extra cake this morning." Sera continues to trail her hands over the ridges of Adaar's sculpted abdomen, up to the point where she cups a handful of the mage's breast. "Unless you're complaining."

"In that case, carry on." Adaar breathes, satisfied when she finds Sera's lips on her cheek. Without delay, she takes Sera's lips between hers. Her taste is intoxicating- today she tastes of raspberry muffins and _maraas lok_, two things the Inquisitor happens to enjoy very much. Curious hands travel the well known marks of long gone nicks and wounds, hurt yet well loved by the archer herself. When others would call them damaged, she instead kisses them, little scars and marks like constellations in the sky for her.

Sera tilts the tip of her chin to angle herself right, the side of her head pressing against one of Adaar's long, thick horns. "Missed you today." She says, breaking away with a hard breath.

"I missed you too." Adaar smiles, her voice husky with want. "A lot."

"Then come here, you."

Adaar willingly lets Sera guide her to sit comfortably with her back to the headboards, her large hands reaching for the Red Jenny's hips when she moves to straddle her. However, her hands are slowly brought down.

"Just sit back and watch." Sera tells her, her knees on the sheets and her legs snugly around Adaar's.

Adaar wordlessly nods under Sera's salacious grin, her breath hitching when looks down and feels a movement on her crotch.

Circling her arms around Adaar's neck, Sera's grin swells with pride as she begins to slowly gyrate her hips over the mage's, observing as forest green pupils dilate when those eyes intently watch her with lust. The glistening shine of the oil on her shoulders and abdomen defines every contour of every single muscle that tenses with each slow circle of Sera's hips.

Adaar's mouth goes dry when Sera's fingers start to fiddle with the laces of her tunic, pulling slowly, and then stopping, then pulling again. It's around this moment when she notices the growing need between her legs, and her hands forget themselves and dart out to undo those laces themselves, only to be swatted away.

"Stay." Sera says, firmly.

"But Sera..." Adaar groans.

Sera presses a finger to her mouth. "But nothin'." She whispers, placing a kiss on Adaar's lips, a kiss that's far too light for the qunari. Without giving Adaar a chance to protest, she lightly drags her lips over her collarbone.

The Inquisitor gasps when she feels the small scraping of teeth and tongue, climbing the column of her neck, ending in small nips over her pulse point until the tip of her tongue trails onto the hinge of her jaw.

A chuckle. "Wish you could see the look on your face right now." She says, before she removes the tunic. She pulls it over her head slowly, deliberately, making sure her lover has time to take in the taut muscles of her stomach. "You're not the only one who's been working it." She says, flinging the tunic behind her.

She's not lying. Sera makes her move to brush a wild tuft of hair away from her face, her lithe, slender, yet muscular arm flexing just enough for Adaar to watch and swallow when she sees what she's wearing- the red bra from Madame Bellerose.

"Shit." Adaar curses. The tailor certainly did her job correctly, because never has the Tal-Vashoth seen Sera's breasts being hugged by any fabric so perfectly. The crimson, low cut brassiere gives her an ample view of Sera's cleavage, plump and round like never before.

In response to the one word Adaar utters, Sera unabashedly flits her fingers over to her breast, where she squeezes the soft mound firmly while she grinds herself over the Inquisitor's thigh. She lets out a small huff at the small buzz of pleasure, teasing at the waistband of her pants as the clothed leg rubs over her again.

Adaar raises her leg, just in time for Sera to bring herself down on the qunari's knee. Sera hisses when the hard surface roughly comes over the growing wetness that's just beginning to form between her thighs.

One smooth movement of the rogue's fingers is all it takes to unclasp her bra. Shrugging it off as if she has all the time in the world, she takes a breast into her palms, kneading and stroking a rosy peak between her fingers.

"Are you sure you're not going to take them off?" Adaar directs her gaze to the plaid pair of tights that Sera loves so much.

Sera smiles like the mage had just fallen into a cleverly concealed trap. "You want it, you'll get it." She says, tugging down her pants immediately, to Adaar's surprise.

Adaar can't help but put her hand on Sera's hip. "Holy shit." She breathes. The lacy red panties barely cover anything. The sides are made entirely of see-through fabric that she's only ever seen in Orlesian shops, while the front sits so low that she's sure an accidental pull would reveal everything. Sera turns around from where she kneels, once again moving her hips seductively as she slips her thumbs into the back of the panties, which doesn't really take much- the pair is so small that Adaar can see most of her ass anyway.

She finally slides the only thing covering her down, and Adaar's eyes feast on the perfect curves. Sera purposely arches her back, knowing full well what she's doing, then suddenly turning around again just as she feels a warm palm grope her exposed behind.

This only serves to fan the hotness in the pit of Adaar's loins even further, and what Sera does next stokes it further- the top of her panties is just low enough for her to not be completely nude. Fingers slowly slip inside, running gradually over a wet slit.

"Sera."

She continues, teasing herself and ignoring Adaar's call. Removing her fingers, Sera finally pulls down her panties. Adaar's fingers clench to the fabric of her pants as she notices the wet spot in the middle of the panties, watching Sera continue to stroke herself. The archer knows that the qunari is perfectly aware that she's not applying nearly enough pressure to fully please herself. She proudly commends herself for this when Adaar wets her lips, fully intending to rectify that.

"That's enough." Adaar says, her voice shaky. "Please."

Sera doesn't break eye contact and pushes a finger inside, dragging it out and repeating. One particularly deep thrust manages to please her just enough to send a buzz of ecstasy into her core, and she gasps.

That's the last straw. Adaar bolts.

In an instant, she grabs Sera's shoulders and roughly brings her down, claiming her lips and tossing her panties somewhere she doesn't care to check. She assaults her lips without mercy, not a second wasted and not one breath taken. She bites, pries her mouth open with a hungry tongue, and pushes her legs open with a nudge of her own hips.

"Let's get you warmed up." Adaar says, her finger by Sera's entrance.

She thrusts inside. Even after all the times she's had her, Sera has never gotten used to Adaar's digits. They're long, large and rough, their size doing nothing to hinder their finesse. The taller woman doesn't beat around the bush, going as far as she can and curling her fingers once she can't go further and dragging them out. Sera releases a startled cry when Adaar massages her palm against her clit, rocking into her hand in desperation.

An impatient tongue runs over the length of Sera's pointed ear, soon turning into a set of teeth that scrape a reddening earlobe between them.

And then Sera hears it. She thinks she must be imagining it, but she takes a small break from her grinding to make sure it's real- there's a low rumble in the back of Adaar's throat, so raw and primal that the elf doesn't even think that she realizes she's making those sounds. She's _growling._

Sera almost comes just from hearing it, completely caught off guard at the thought of her gentle giantess actually making those sounds.

She wants to hear more. The Fereldan wraps her legs around Adaar's hips, her arms doing all they can to pull her closer. The next push of the qunari's hefty fingers is rewarded by a breathy moan that Sera finds herself unable to hold back. "That," She pants. "That all you've got?" She gasps when she's filled in fuller, with two fingers inside, the pressure in her loins threatening to burst at another wild growl that vibrates against her ear. "Ain't gonna finish me like that." She breathlessly taunts.

She's so, so close, and Adaar just stops like that and pulls her slick fingers out, the glistening moisture coating her fingers and palm completely. "I'm not done with you just yet." She flashes Sera a wicked look and reaches for the bedside table to yank the cupboard open recklessly.

Sera's mouth gapes when she sees what Adaar's holding; it's the strap-on and a bottle. She double takes, seeing that it's basically a bigger copy than the one she saw. This one is definitely made to be worn by a qunari. Now that she's seeing it up close, whe can see little soft bumps over it's entirety, which curves inwards into an odd, bent shape. She doesn't get to see much, though, because Adaar unbuttons her pants and pulls them down along with her panties to pool at her knees. She's completely soaked with her arousal, making it ridiculously easy for her to slide her part of the strap-on in. Sera thinks it looks suspiciously like a weird bean, but she doesn't mention it.

Adaar pushes it in little by little, her face caught in an astonished grimace when she locks around the toy, every small movement she makes further nudging the small form against a sweet spot. The two strange shapes that look suspiciously like rabbit ears fit perfectly around her clit, and she shudders.

Sera manages to hold in her glee as an idea hatches in her head.

Adaar opens the bottle hurriedly and squirts the lube onto her hand. She closes the lid of the bottle and sets it on the side table within the fraction of a second before she lathers the length of the toy with the clear liquid. Sera doesn't even bother waiting until Adaar's hands are off before she climbs on her lap, positioning herself over the glistening shaft.

It's a little difficult to fit it inside, at first; Sera's not used to anything bigger than Adaar's fingers, and the curve of the toy makes it hard for her to angle it right. She uses her hand to place it right, though, and she lowers herself slowly to let the tip slip inside her slowly.

In fact, she does is so slowly that the hunger in Adaar's eyes give way to some concern. "Is it uncomfortable?"

Sera huffs. The ferocity in her qunari is gone. No matter, she'll drag it out again. "No." She says, bringing down her hips a little more. Her fists tighten as she does so, because _damn_, the little bumps feel so heavenly as they pass her entrance that she has to pace herself lest she give Adaar the satisfaction of seeing how much she likes it already.

That's just no fun, after all.

Adaar's breaths grow harder as she's treated to a full, wonderful view of Sera sliding it further into herself. She spreads her legs a bit wider to take it in. With every little extra that slips inside her, she rises up and goes lower to take in more, until the inside of her thighs rest on the mage's lap.

Finally, she lifts herself up until only the tip remains inside, and she brings herself down until it's entirely within her. When it happens, Sera has to bite her lip to refrain from making a sound when the curved arc fills her up completely, massaging her spots and stretching her like never before. She repeats, this time making sure to rise and fall slowly, clenching around the shape and drawing an audible gasp from Adaar at the pushing and pulling inside her walls.

Sera chuckles at the reaction, upping her tempo. Adaar's head lies against the headboard as she places her hands on Sera's hips to stabilize her, suddenly meeting Sera with a thrust of her own. "Ah..." The elf lets the noise escape her at the unexpected move, followed by another and then another.

Adaar allows herself to moan softly with every jerky motion of her thrusts as she watches herself please her woman, swallowing as a thin layer of sweat trickles between her breasts and to her navel.

"You enjoying this more than I am, huh?" Sera taunts her giantess again, her voice strained.

Adaar stares at her wide-eyed, at least until she figures out what the archer is doing. Then she smirks arrogantly, positioning her thumb at the base of the shaft. Sera curses, finding her thighs too slack with pleasure to stop her descent now. When she comes down, the digit harshly rubs her already oversensitive bud and she cries out. Her hips stop moving, the elf overwhelmed by sheer carnal goodness, but Adaar won't have any of it and she enters her all the way, her thumb pressing firm strokes against the bundle of nerves. Another cry.

"I believe you're the one enjoying this very much." Adaar chuckles devilishly.

Sera can't come up with a coherent reply, instead groaning with a strange mixture of ecstasy and annoyance. She feels herself clamping down harder, and although she can see Adaar raggedly breathing with every hard thrust, she knows she won't last longer. She collapses into Adaar's waiting arms, holding her breath as she feels herself about to reach her limit.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sera feels it. One more push, and she's done for, but Adaar doesn't go for it. Her eyes tear open as she realizes what has just been done to her.

She raises her head from Adaar's collarbone, facing the most infuriatingly arrogant smile she has ever seen. "I bet you thought you were going to rile me up," Adaar darkly chortles. "Make me growl, fuck you against the wall?"

"Fuck you, Buckles." Sera says, her voice deadpan as she catches her breath and feels her release rapidly leaving her. "_Fuck. You._"

"Gladly, love." Adaar's lips press against Sera's forehead. "Very gladly."

Sera is taken by surprise when Adaar flips her around. She nearly bangs her head as she's pressed to the headboards with her hips lifted up by powerful arms. A tiny zap of electricity shoots from Adaar's finger, one that seems to be aimed at the soaking wet strap-on. "Buckles, what the f-"

Adaar enters her again, and Sera's protest is cut off by her own moan. However, the pride on the qunari's face takes a sudden shift into a startled confusion.

It's vibrating on her end too.

Sera sees the change in expression and she rocks her hips up, unwilling to be bested. "Shit." Adaar curses harshly as she finds out exactly why those strange shapes on her end are made to hug her where it counts. Pleasure overtakes her with every rough thrust Sera makes against her, but she doesn't give in. "Shit, shit... shit!"

"This'll teach you not to be a damn smartass." Sera pants.

Adaar hoists her up further, her arms burning as she lifts her up completely, effectively fucking her against the headboards. She shifts closer and her thrusts become faster and deeper, and it's almost too much for them both to bear—that is, until Sera clutches at a pair of strong, solid shoulders, and she hears it again.

Growling in her ear, low and lustful and wild, growing with each breath.

And just like that, she comes. Sera's has held it in for long enough, and it comes back with a vengeance. Her orgasm racks her body like a torrent of rushing water, powerful and sending jolts of bliss into every drop of blood in her vessels. She lets herself loose, calling out her lover's name into her ear, jerkily meeting her thrusts to ride out her high for as long as she can.

When Sera clenches tightly around the shaft to feel every last drop of pleasure, Adaar's vision almost swims as her arms give out. She lets Sera down, seizing her mouth. Tongues probe and mesh as she gives one powerful push. Her fingers rake over Adaar's back, leaving red marks in it's wake. This only encourages Adaar to go harder, until It's all too much and she is finally tipped over the edge. She moans into Sera's mouth, riding out her orgasm until she's too exhausted to continue.

She stays still for a few seconds, the perspiration dripping from her chin. She pulls out tiredly, removing the toy from herself and discarding it on the side table as she lies down, her mind still hazy and her muscles worn out. "Holy shit." She laughs faintly, wiping the sweat from her brow. "We should do this more often."

"We would, if you weren't working yourself to the bone and falling asleep after dinner every day." Sera frowns, tucking a silvery strand of hair behind Adaar's ear. "Sometimes before dinner."

"Sorry, love, I'll make it up to you." Adaar apologetically smiles, slipping a hand behind Sera's back to edge her closer. It never ceases to amaze Sera, how Adaar can go straight from ravishing her to treating her like an old spouse. "I'll finish up work early tomorrow so I can take you out, okay?"

"Wait a minute." Sera looks at her incredulously. "I wasn't whining about more sex," Her eyes grow distant for a little while, and she giggles. "Although you can't really go wrong with more sex."

"Then what is it?" Adaar asks. She lies on her side to face the elf, her chest rising and falling as she tries to regain her breath.

"I, uh, actually wanted to... y'know..." Sera looks away. "Help you?"

Adaar smiles gently. "Help me?"

"I know I can't write letters with fancy words and whatever." Sera sighs, turning herself over to avoid the inquisitive look Adaar is giving her. "But I don't know, I've got to be able to do _something_."

"Thank you." Adaar snuggles into Sera's toned back. She feels her eyes begin to droop as she feels the elf's heartbeat against her. It never fails to soothe her into deep sleep. "I have some errands to take care of. Most of them don't involve snobby Lords, so don't worry about that."

Sera strokes Adaar's cheek, her thumb running over the scarred corner of her mouth. She's not the biggest person, but her hands look so small in comparison to the qunari's head. She takes a moment to examine the nicely healing scar on her face, deducing that it won't take long for it to dry. "Don't tire yourself out so much, yeah?"

"I don't get too tired, not since you began bringing me coffee and snacks every day. It's nice to have something to look forward to."

Sera jokingly shoves her in the chest. "Honey tongue."

Adaar blinks in mock confusion. "I didn't even eat you out this time."

Sera chuckles, and then stops. "The corners of Adaar's mouth rises just a bit, but the perfectly symmetrical smile of adoration makes Sera's heart skip a beat. "Why do you always look at me like that?"

She blinks again, this time actually confused. "Look at you like what?"

"After we have sex, you always look at me like... uh..." She struggles to find the correct words. "Like you wanna have my babies?"

Adaar cracks her neck and gets off the bed, walking towards her dresser. "Maybe it's because you're always a good lay. Or maybe it's because I really appreciate the coffee you got me earlier. Otherwise, I think I would've fallen asleep, tripped down the stairs and broken my neck." _You liar_. She opens the drawer, pulling out something Sera can't quite see from where she is. "I got you something."

"Hm? Again?"

She raises the thick book up: '101 Cookie Recipes'.

"Let's borrow the kitchen for a bit tomorrow. What do you say?"

* * *

**I'm sorry for the late update. I was supposed to update yesterday, but a lot of things got out of hand and I kept coming back home too tired to do anything, so I hope bad porn soothes your anger at this (admittedly) rushed chapter.**

**As always, don't forget to give me some feedback. I still update my stories based on which ones get the most feedback, so don't forget to drop in and say hi.**


	24. Us

First of all, sorry for taking so long... again. I was out of town doing some slummy athlete business lol.

**Once again, the speed and regularity of updates depend on which of my stories get more attention, because I only have two hands and 24 hours in one day, which I use for other things as well. Enjoy!**

* * *

"You're doing it again."

"Hm?" Adaar looks at her as if she has no idea what Sera is talking about.

The elf narrows her eyes suspiciously. "You're smiling like that again. Where are we going, huh? We doing something kinky?"

Adaar chuckles affectionately at the question. "You were bouncing on my lap before I literally lifted you up and fucked you against the headboards." The corner of her lips where her scar begins move upwards. "I'll have to think of something new. Maybe next time you'll use it on me?" The smirk on her face grows longer.

"Yeah, once you stop passing out on the bed before dinner."

Adaar's hand stops once it reaches the doorknob. "I spent hours having the baker give me lessons, so here's to hoping you like it." She turns it, and the door opens. "I figured that even we won't mess up simple chocolate chip cookies." Adaar wryly says as she shuts the door behind her. "Let's hope I'm right."

Sera holds her breath, her mouth opening for a split second and then closing again as the words can't seem to form on her tongue. She blinks once, then twice.

A very, very wide set of ingredients are spread over the counter. Flour, eggs, everything.

"Uh, Sera?"

She still stares ahead, as if she still can't process the sight before her.

Adaar scratches her head. "Um, we can make something else..."

"This is for me?" She says it so soundly that Adaar has to strain her ears to hear her.

"Of course." The mage nods with a smile. "'Us' cookies, right? I think they sound great."

_For me_. Sera still doesn't look at her. The shock rings inside her head like a thrum, and she finds it hard to even articulate herself at all. Luckily for her, words aren't necessary—she grabs the collar of Adaar's coat and yanks it down forcefully. The surprised yelp Adaar squeaks out is cut off when fingers barely manage to curl around her large horns and tug her into a crushing, bruising kiss that just nearly throws the giantess off her balance. Her broad back thuds against the door as Sera pulls her lips back and fully throws herself into Adaar's waiting arms, nearly knocking her forehead against the larger woman's chin.

Adaar straightens herself and chuckles as Sera nuzzles into her chest, still without a word. "I take it that you're happy with my little present?"

Sera looks up, showing the qunari the widest grin the mage has ever seen on her face—and that's saying something. Her hands fiddle with the collar of Adaar's shirt as a rosy tint creeps onto her cheeks. "I think I said it once, but I'll say it again. You're too fuckin' good to be true."

A thumb brushes across her cheek, light and soft. Sera sucks in a breath, completely out of her own volition. "You're blushing."

"Yeah," She says, with more fluster than she thinks. "So what?"

Bafflement takes over her face. "I was nailing you with a strap on last night and you didn't even bat an eye!"

"Then you gotta step it up." She teases, crossing her arms.

"Well, you didn't bat an eye until..." Adaar chuckles proudly at herself. Sera's positive she'd be patting herself on the back, if she could. "So, growling's what does it for you, huh?"

"Don't get cocky, you little shit. A little ass wiggle's all I needed to do to make you drool all over last night." She says, refusing to accept the qunari's words. "So, we making this or not?"

Adaar nods. She's not letting that go, ever. "Let's."

Sera claps her hands excitedly as she eyes down the ingredients, but that's all she does. "So... how do you do this this? You mix it all together?"

"Yeah, um, hold on..." Adaar reaches for something from the inside of her coat. She pulls the recipe book out. "Ah, here it is."

A thought strikes the elf. "Where'd you get that? There's no bookstore here." And if the qunari had bought it during their travels, she would definitely know about it.

"The merchants in the yard take orders." Adaar explains, as she flips through the pages of the book. She misses a couple of times, her fingers failing to flip the comparatively small pages. "It's how I get my dose of lesbian fiction without having everyone who comes with us on our trips knowing about what kinks I have. Cassandra isn't as discreet as she thinks she is."

Sera shakes her head wildly, wondering if she heard her lover correctly. "Wait, so that's what you've been reading before bed!?"

Adaar nods, furrowing her brow as another page escapes her fingers. She wonders if things would be different if she had a rogue's skilled fingers. "Uhuh. Ah, found it." She puts the book on the table. After looking around to find something to keep the page in place, she decides to just dog-ear it.

"I wanna read it."

Adaar hands her the book.

"No, dumbass, I mean the porn you read at night."

The qunari coughs and puts the book back down. "Uh... let's start making the cookies before the butter goes cold." "You basically just mix everything together and put it in the oven." Adaar nonchalantly explains. "Just take it out in time. And I know we're going to wind up distracted somehow, but not this time—I'm keeping watch."

She would press into the issue of the smutty fiction, but she finds herself too excited for the cookies. She'll just steal it from her later."We?" Sera laughs at the word. "You're the one who can't stop staring at my tits."

Adaar rolls her eyes as she prepares a bowl and holds an egg between her fingers. "Would you rather have me staring at Cassandra or Vivienne's tits?"

"You're all talk, Buckles. Everyone knows you're too much of a puppy to do it."

Adaar grumbles a grudging agreement as she tries to crack the egg against the edge of the bowl, but not before reaching for something pink from a shelf—an apron. She shrugs off her coat and casually ties the frilly object around her waist.

Sera snorts in laughter at the sight. The apron is clearly meant for a human, as it ends just below Adaar's hips and the sides of her shoulders and torso are clearly still visible.

"Oh, so I try to be a good girlfriend and you laugh at me?" She pouts, trying to crack an egg. The thing is so small between her fingers that she doesn't even dare to squeeze it too hard, lest she make a mess all over the place. She swears on the third tap, one that's too light to even make a dent.

"Let me do that," Sera holds her hand out. "Don't like that look on your face."

Adaar's relief shows on her face when Sera takes the damn egg away. "What look?"

Sera moves her pointer fingers to the sides of her head to imitate a pair of horns, albeit very small ones. She frowns deeply, scrunching her brow and cursing incoherently. "Oh, nothing, Sera, just writing down boring ass stuff about Inquisition finances." She says in a deeper voice, and then effortlessly cracks an egg into the bowl.

Adaar almost grimaces as she watches Sera crack one again. "I do not sound like that." She complains, reaching for a large ladle. She scoops up some flour into the bowl with it, careful not to spill anything.

"Okay, flour..." Sera mumbles, slicing off the edge of a brown paper bag. She turns it over and a heaps of flour crash into the bowl, billowing clouds of white flying half enough to stick to Adaar's face. It's barely noticeable in the qunari's silvery hair, but they blanket Sera's blonde locks like snow.

Unfortunately, her face and clothes are also caked in it, most of them gathering between her lips. She tries to lick them, and then she coughs, desperately trying to wipe them off. "Shit, this tastes like... Shit!"

Adaar is thankful that she's wearing an apron and is tall enough to avoid most of the damage. She laughs at her girlfriend's plight, doing absolutely nothing at all to help. "Suits you right." She chuckles, pulling Sera's hands away from her face and planting a kiss on her. Sera can feel the laughter on her lips, and she just barely decides to let her get away with it.

"Half the bag is friggin' empty!" She says, once the flour is out of her nose and mouth. She smacks her lips, still tasting dry foulness. Bits of flour cling to her nose and face.

"Uh, scoop them back in before the chef finds out?" Adaar suggests, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

She nods. "Let's add more butter." Sera remarks, looking down at the opened page. "And... Chocolate chips."

"Don't ignore me!" Adaar pouts.

"Yeah, you're right. You sound grumpier and like an old lady, kinda like that arsebiscuit sourpuss with the flippy hair." She absentmindedly tosses in the butter and sugar.

"You wanna know something?" Adaar reaches for the spoon. Meanwhile, Sera scoops handfuls of flour back in the bag, trails falling to the floor and on herself.

"What?"

"He saved me." She says, scooping in a generous amount of chocolate chips into the batter. "Back when they tried to... Y'know. He fired the first shot, and he's the only reason I got away. The only reason _we_ got away."

Sera stays quiet, watching Adaar remove her coat and put it on a nearby chair. She continues to mix, the sight quite comical—both the bowl and especially the spoon look absolutely tiny in her hands. It's like watching a child play with a pretend baking set. "Guess that makes him okay in my book, but he still needs to get laid."

Adaar chuckles, but stays quiet otherwise, the tip of her tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth as she stirs the mixture. Suddenly, more chocolate chips are dumped into the bowl.

"This qunari lady helped me out when I escaped from prison." Sera sticks her finger in and scoops out some dough, sticking her finger in her mouth. She gleefully tosses in a spoonful of butter. "Saved me, more like it. Came out of nowhere when I was damn near starved to death. Rented a motel and left heaps of money after she hand fed me."

"I can hear Cassandra telling me off for my unhealthy food intake." Adaar quips. "What happened to her, then? You woke up and she was gone, just like that?"

"Just like that." Sera nods, sighing. "Let me do that." She says, taking the spoon and bowl from the mage. "Tried to find her for years, but everyone was pretty damn sure I was a loony. No qunari dreadnoughts around, no Tal-Vashoth camps. No grey, giant woman struttin' around town, wigglin' her arse around like it's no one's business." She sticks in another finger, pulling it out and into her mouth.

"We're gonna run out of dough, at this rate."

"Calm your tits, I'm done." Sera grins, and then cocks her head to the book. "It is, right, just stick it in the oven?"

"Yeah, after we shape it up." She says, putting the bowl down and taking out a tray from one of the cupboards.

"Try it," Sera says, a finger laced with cookie dough close to Adaar's face. "It's damn good."

"Huh?" Adaar turns her head just as she's in the middle of cutting circles of it on the tray, and the dough is smeared across her cheek, right over her scar. A particularly thick layer falls down from her face and onto the ground, forgotten. Her absolutely confused face, coupled with the streaks of white and brown on her face, Sera can handle. The tiny and now very messy and pink apron, complete with frills, she can't.

She bursts out laughing, clutching her tightening stomach at Adaar's stunned face. "Hell, Buckles," Sera breathes in between her wild cackles. "You look dumber than that nug you ride, and that's fucking dumb!"

Adaar stands, letting Sera's laughs die down, but it doesn't. If anything it seems to be getting louder. In her stupor, Sera doesn't notice Adaar scooping her up onto the table, at least not until her back is to the counter and the qunari's face is so close to her she could just stick her tongue out and taste the dough on her.

She presses suggestively against her, pushing the elf's legs open. Her hands rest by Sera's head, holding her up over the archer. A naughty smile. "Say, do you want to cross something out from your bucket list?"

"Yeah," Sera winks. "Cookies." She then literally drags her tongue over the smear of dough across Adaar's cheek. In an instant, the qunari scrambles away.

Her foot unluckily catches the fallen dough and she's sent flailing backwards. The sharp tip of her horn snags the open bag of flour, sending white raining down on her. Her long horns save her from banging her head on the corner of the counter, but the snagged bag still hangs, pouring a small hill that gathers on top of her head. Layers of them cake her brows, her nose, and her cheek as she seethes in silence.

"Hah!" Sera points and roars in laughter, the breath leaving her lungs in gulps of titters. "That'll show you to try and get a one-up on me!"

Adaar lets her enjoy her small moment of victory, timing herself right when Sera clutches her stomach and bends over, out of breath from her howling laughs. Then, she pounces. She looks up, but between her breathlessness and laughter, she's too late to move out of the way. In an instant, Adaar's massive frame blocks her from escape and her arms lock tightly around the elf's waist. Adaar rubs her face all over Sera's, and the smaller woman can't help but giggle as the Tal-Vashoth's nose tickles her all over. Her halfhearted pushes do nothing to remove the arms around her, and soon her whole face is laced with white, like the counter and the floor below them.

She looks down at Adaar's shirt, white powder spread around on the crumpled crumpled fabric. "You look stupid." Sera chortles, once her laughter simmers down.

"And you look ridiculous." Adaar chuckles, noticing that some of the flour had poured into Sera's tunic, and all over it as well. "Let's put the cookies in, hm? Wouldn't want them to get hard."

Sera nods, picking up the tray. "Of course not." She snickers, shoving it into the oven and shutting the door. Sera doesn't miss the sluggishness in Adaar's movements as she stokes the fire and finds a chair to sit on. The thief approaches her, tilting up her cheek and wiping away the bits of whit below her eyes. "You've got them circles under your eyes again."

Adaar gives her a tired smile that she forces to seem as genuine as possible, which is not genuine at all. "No rest for the wicked."

Sera frowns and sighs, tapping her foot impatiently. "What are you workin' on, anyway? You've been glued to your office for a week."

"Well, money." Adaar puts it simply. "Dealing with people who think I can pull money out of my ass, granting money for soldiers and campaigns, and trying to get my grubby hands on more money."

"Well..." Sera tries to dig out some pf the information from the back of her head. Those frequent updates from her friends are very useful. "I've got a few hornet nests we can clean out, yeah? Got a lot of dirt, you can do the thing where you march in, take 'em out, and grab their money."

"We already exhausted all the options you gave us this month." Adaar grumbles. "That's a few extra sovereign piles, but we'll need some more."

"New info just came in." Sera tells her, and she sees a weight rise from Adaar's shoulders as she says so. The small glimmer of hope in the qunari's face shows quite clearly. "Just gave them to Leliana before you took me here." And then her eyes widen in abhorrence. "Wait a minute, we're supposed to be fuckin' on the kitchen table now, not talking about boring work."

Adaar rolls her eyes animatedly. "For the record, you're the one who refused sex."

"Refused?" Sera says it like she's never heard of it before. "More like saving it for later, 'cause I'm friggin' hungry now. I'd eat all of you if I could." She giggles. "If you were food, you'd be one big piece of beefy steak. With the beef and the muscles and the... _Phwoar_." She says, staring obviously at Adaar's built shoulders, licking her lips. "With gravy! And potatoes on the side. And honey!" She smacks her lips.

"When you said you wanted to eat me, I was hoping that was an innuendo." Adaar murmurs to herself.

"Aww, cheer up, big girl." Sera ruffles the top of her hair. "Maybe put some gravy on your beef," she squeezes a hefty bicep. She always thought it was such a shame Adaar didn't ever wear sleeveless tops. "And maybe some honey too, and then we'll talk."

"My beef?" Adaar feigns a grimace. "What kind of smutty literature have you been reading?"

Sera would reply, but the scent of chocolate and vanilla swirls and wafts into her nose, and her attention is brought elsewhere. She doesn't even realize how long they've been talking.

"Looks like they're ready." Adaar's legs wobble slightly as she rises from the chair. She barely stops herself from falling back down. She must be more tired than she thinks.

Sera bites her lip, the frustration showing in her slight grimace. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine." Adaar reassures her, grabbing a napkin. The gloves the chef wears are too small for her, anyway, and so she covers her hand up with the old, checkered piece of cloth and pulls the oven door open.

"No, you're not." Sera counters, softly. "Don't think I didn't see you almost plant your face in your breakfast. When did you wake up this morning?"

The sweet smell escapes into the air, and Adaar feels her stomach grumble like a hungry animal. "Uh... Before dawn." She says, carefully taking the tray of cookies out.

The cookies seem just about perfect. The ones Adaar shaped are quite a bit larger and lumpier than Sera's comparatively small and neater ones. They're a shade of golden brown, the chocolate chips partially melted on the surface, while steam rises in small billows into the air.

And the scent—buttery, chocolaty goodness rolled into one.

"Hey, Buckles?"

"Yes?"

"These cookies look like sex."

"No time to waste," Adaar grabs a nearby plate. She scoops the cookies up with her large, greedy hands, disregarding the heat from the tray, and then she's off.

* * *

Cold water splashes Adaar's face, and rough hands scrub off the clinging bits of flour from her skin. She reaches for the towel by the tub and dries her face, immediately leaving the room. Her long legs carry her quickly across the warm room, and she smirks when she sees Sera's face that close to the plate of warm cookies. She can practically see her drooling as she finally steps out into the open air.

"Took ya long enough." Sera shoots up from the couch. Adaar had insisted on putting it there, given her fondness of sitting there in the mornings to get some fresh air in between her paperwork.

Without delay, Sera stands up, letting Adaar seat herself on the big, burgundy couch. She plops herself down on her lap afterwards, glad for the warm arm that finds it's way around her. With the quick hands of a rogue, she finds the biggest cookie she can find and takes a large bite into it.

Maybe it's the cold air, but the cookie is spectacularly warm. She digs into the crunchy layer and into the gooey middle, through melting chocolate and chunks of goodness. It's sweet, just as she likes it, and savory like a fireplace in the dead of winter.

Also, mornings in Skyhold are cold and the cookies make them much, much better, especially when she's in her qunari's arms.

"Are you going to keep all that to yourself?"

The voice snaps Sera out, and she holds the other half of the cookie in front of Adaar's mouth. "Yeah, yeah."

A small hum of approval vibrates in Adaar's throat as she takes the whole thing into her mouth. "I guess all the extra money I had to pay to make up for the eleven failed attempts to make these paid off." She says, in between long, drawn out chews.

Sera turns herself sideways to look at her face. "You did that?"

Adaar nods. "I wanted them to be perfect, even though I had the kitchen staff glaring at the mess I made every single day." She laughs awkwardly. "Well, a little bit glared, and all of them wondered what the hell I was doing there."

Sera pauses her chewing. "You just walked in there every day, fucking around and spilling shit everywhere?"

Adaar blushes in embarrassment. "Well, until Ignatius took pity on me and helped me out. Or maybe he got pissed at me for nearly trampling everyone there and told me what to do so I'd get the hell out, already."

Sera kisses her full on the lips, tasting of hearty sweetness. The kiss is short and nice, and a soft smack sounds as their lips part. She doesn't pull away though, instead looking into the pair of tired, deep green eyes that gaze into her own searching ones. She can feel long breaths on the surface of her skin, assuring and just there. "You make the best cookies, Buckles." She breathes, a girlish smile spreading across her face as she covers soft lips with her own once more.

A familiar feeling spreads through her chest, flowering and spreading to her cheeks. It's like the buzz of a good drink and the feeling of a warm blanket on a cold morning. It rushes to her fingertips and every fiber of her being, and suddenly she despises that Adaar will probably leave in an hour or so to sit for hours on her desk, or practice and get hit in the face again, or meet in the war room to talk about secrets and soldiers and politics.

She's probably going to do all three.

"We did." Adaar chuckles, her lips still on her lover's.

They fall into a comfortable silence, finishing one cookie after another. Sera occasionally holds one just out of reach from Adaar's bites, pulling it back just before the qunari can catch it, only to actually feed her afterwards. Once, she pushes a little bit too fast, while Adaar's guard is down, and the qunari nearly chokes on the crumbs and has to beat her chest to breathe. They continue until the last piece is gone, one that they agree to split in half.

"I tried to find her for years, y'know." Sera suddenly says.

"Who?"

"The qunari who saved me. Couldn't find her, gave up after a few years." She explains, snuggling closer into her arms.

"Do you remember what she looked like?" She asks, yawning.

"No." Sera says, looking down in unfounded regret. "Well, sort of, but not much. She had these rough, but really gentle hands. She carried me from some dirty alleyway, but it was dark and my eyes were barely working."

"Close your eyes." Adaar tells her. "Maybe it'll help."

And she does, and she searches and waits. Bits and pieces start to come back, like old memories from another life. "Her voice was strong." She begins. "Strong and worried, and I remember her looking at me with these beautiful, sad eyes like she was seeing someone she knew her whole life dying in front of her. Shit, she was heartbroken." She shuts her eyes tighter, trying to dig out more from her subconscious. "I tried to touch her face because I couldn't see her right, and they were... I don't know." She shakes her head.

Adaar's interest is piqued. "What did they feel like?"

"Weird." Sera says, the words hanging from the tip of her tongue. Her fingers trace the contours of Adaar's face, feeling the sharp angles of her jaw and the indentations and lines of her scars. Something clicks."Jagged. Like they're heavily scarred. And her eyes, they were..." Realization dawns on her face as she recalls one moment, buried so deep in her memories that she's only just remembered now. She opens her eyes and meets forest green. "Green, like leaves."

Adaar sucks in a breath. "She looks an awful lot like me."

"Buckles," Sera's lips stiffen. "How old are you?"

"Around my mid-twenties." She tells her. "What about you?"

"I guess... Early twenties. Must be, since I finally got these boobs around ten years ago." She reasons, and Adaar can't help but laugh softly at her deduction.

"Weird." Adaar responds, her eyebrows lowering in confusion.

Sera responses by pressing her lips to Adaar's nose. "Don't make that face again, Buckles."

Immediately, the tension in her dissipates to nothing. "Sorry. We're supposed to be relaxing."

"Probably just one of those coincidences." She says, reassuringly resting her head on a strong shoulder.

Adaar yawns. "Yeah... You're probably right." Her voice starts to trail off.

"You tired?" Sera asks, looking up at the Inquisitor's droopy eyes.

Adaar nods slightly, pulling the elf against her. "Mmhm."

It makes sense. She's never there when Sera wakes up, not anymore. Mornings are synonymous to cold sheets and empty beds to her, and it has been for a while. But for now, Adaar's head is tilted back and she snores slightly in the chilly morning air, her lover in her arms and her belly full of cookies.

What she doesn't know is that Sera creeps out of her hold when she's dead to the world around her, in her deep sleep. The sneaky rogue tip-toes to Adaar's table, making nary a sound, and she slowly opens the desk. Holding her breath, she takes out a single sheet of paper that she finds Adaar staring at much too often.

_Inquisition Finances_. The money for food and soldiers are accounted for just fine, and the weapons and armor stocks are fantastic. However, one section catches her eye: _undercover soldiers (domestic information surveillance),_ where a big red question mark is scrawled on the space where the amount of money allocated to it is supposed to be.

A heavy weight settles on her shoulders when she realizes that her gut feeling had been right—this is what Adaar has been working so maniacally on.

Protecting her 'domestic information surveillance'. Protecting her friends.

AAA

Kaariss knocks on the door to Adaar's office, his face rigid as the bow on his back. He's about to turn back when he doesn't receive a welcome, when her muffled voice finally comes.

"Come in."

And he does. He opens the door and shuts it behind him, like a brave knight entering a dragon's cave. He walks smoothly across wood and carpet, taking a good look around.

So this is where she sleeps. He thinks, noting the various archery paraphernalia lying around that's definitely not hers- she doesn't even know how to shoot an arrow, the last time he checked, which is why there shouldn't be bow grips messily strewn on her shelf.

"You wanted something, Herah?"

"Kaariss," Adaar puts her pen down and rises from her seat. She approaches him, trying to discern the mysterious gaze in his eyes. "I need to ask you something."

"To the point, I see." He smiles.

"All those years ago, when we first became Tal-Vashoth, you told everyone that you saw an intruder in the base." Adaar starts, her voice visibly cracking, unlike her continually stoic face. "The tightly guarded base, filled with Ashaad and esteemed warriors."

"I thought we weren't talking about this again." He frowns, his eyebrow twitching. "I don't need more people taking me for a mad fool."

"Who was it?" Adaar demands, and yet it sounds like a plea. "Who did you see? Tell me."

Kaariss balls his fists. "Forget about it, Herah. It's impossible."

"Kaariss, please." She says, her hands grasping his shoulders. "You saw it with your own two eyes."

He hesitates, but the word please strikes him where it counts. Adaar has never said that to anyone, not the Adaar he knows. And so, he speaks.

"I saw it, Herah, I saw her. She looks just like she did today, when she ran into me at breakfast." He can't believe he's saying it.

"You're fucking kidding me, Kaariss." Adaar stares at him in both disbelief and belief.

"It's your woman, Herah. It's her."

* * *

What do you think is going on? Tell me in the reviews!

**Once again, the speed and regularity of updates depend on which of my stories get more attention, because I only have two hands and 24 hours in one day, which I use for other things as well. Enjoy!**


	25. Holy Crap

_Sera, _

_Sorry, pal, but I can't find any jobs that can rake in that much money in such a short time. That's a lot of coin you need, what's going on? Nobles are willing to pay good money to spend a night with an elf, but you're obviously not going to do that, especially since they'll want you to play coy and pretend to be Dalish. Sorry._

_Lod_

She crumples the letter with a grumble and shoves it in her pocket. She'll have to take care of this job first before she looks for another cash cow she can milk dry. Of course, someone with her kind of skills can only steal, kill, piss people off, or spread her legs for some decent money, right? She could try for some more assassination jobs, but those have been running low lately.

She ties her horse to a post, Inky eyeing her curiously at her unusual state: alone. It feels so strange now, not poking fun at Vivienne and not having Dorian complain about mud. Iron Bull isn't here to check out women with her, and Adaar isn't there to make a jealous comment. It would have been different, just a few months ago, but now it's just unnatural.

Have things changed so much since she'd joined this Inquisition?

Inky nudges her foot inquisitively, snapping her out of her little contemplation. She smiles a little as she pets the hound's head- at least she still had a ferocious mabari with her. Adaar was worried about her 'business' that she said she needed to take care of alone, but the qunari trusted her and grumbled a little when they had to part ways. She kissed her goodbye, promising her mage that she'd be back for dinner.

It's time to get down to work. "C'mon, Inky, let's make this a quick one, yeah? We'll get back in time for Harding's stew. Gonna clean that pot dry."

The hound pants in understanding as she leads him through smelly alleys with people who won't look her in the eye, drawing gazes and whispers from all who spy the muscled mabari, a mark of status and wealth, with an elf, of all people. Said elf curses internally, realizing that bringing Inky might not have been a wise choice- a mabari is a rare sight in itself, and one accompanying an elf is a sure description that would get her arrested, should she get caught.

Oh well, she can just make her hide somewhere. Inky's definitely smart enough to do that.

She stops just as she reaches a dingy looking tavern with a rusted sign: The Bronze Goose, exactly where her friend told her the contact would be. Her friend had neglected to tell her anything short of the location of the meeting and that she'd get a hefty amount of coins if she showed, which is why she's glad to have her Inky with her. If this turns out to be a job gone wrong, she's be more than prepared, she hopes.

She hushes Inky to a nearby ally, whispering a command to stay in the mabari's ear. Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the creaky door and walks inside.

Sera is no stranger to the worst parts of cities and towns, and this place is no different from the hundreds of taverns she's stayed in before. Same stench of cheap booze, same suspicious group of leering persons in the corner of the room, and the same bunch of drunken rabble.

However, she doesn't expect to meet a monumental frown of epic proportions, one that she isn't very fond of.

So this is a job gone bad. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Kaariss's frown deepens. "I'm the contact, now sit down quickly. We must be quick."

As much as she'd like to argue, she knows that in this business, attracting attention can mean a certain arrest, so she grudgingly pulls out the chair and plops down on it. "Told you I don't wanna hear whatever pish you wanna say about Buckles." Sera stands without a second thought giving the man a dirty look before she turns around. One step towards the door.

Kaariss' annoyed voice rings out. "Do you want the money or not?" She hears the clink of coins on the table, and she can't help but turn around to see the full bag of gold. A few other patrons take notice too, whispering among themselves and keeping watch over the two.

The thing can fit right into the qunari archer's hand, and that's really saying something. Sera scowls and sits right back down before he attracts even more attention- a qunari meeting an elf draws enough, she doesn't need a bag of gold added to the equation. "I'd bet my life that Buckles won't do shit to me. The big girl's-"

"I'm not an idiot, Sera." He cuts her off unceremoniously. "Anyone with a working head can see that she's absolutely smitten with her. The only thing I'm worried about is what she'll do to everyone else, and what you'll do to her."

"Me?" Sera laughs, offended by the very notion.

Kaariss' stern gaze does nothing to deter her.

She shrugs. "Well, you're a right ass, you are."

He decides not to rectify that. "I'm protecting that foolish, horny lapdog of yours. This is for her own good."

"I'm not gonna hear it." Sera stubbornly says. "She tried to tell me."

"But she didn't." Kaariss crosses his arms crossly. "I won't either, but there are other things you should know about. She and everyone else in this damn mercenary company are deluding themselves if they think sweeping this under a rug will magically fix everything."

"I'm not gonna lie to her," Sera frowns at him. "I told her I'd wait, and I'm gonna wait. You try and take it away, I'm gonna shear off your pretty locks when you're sleepin'." He seems unfazed. "Then I'm gonna tell Shok and Katoh and Buckles-"

"Then you don't get any money."

Sera clenches her fists. "I can get 'em some other way, asshole."

"And let your woman work herself to the bone for you even longer?"

She keeps silent, and he knows he's won. "Fuck you." Is the only thing she can say, and she says it with such venom. "Fuck you, right in the arsehole. Hope it hits your love button right where it's good."

Kaariss chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah, that reminds me—do try to muffle it a bit, yes? The whole tavern knows what goes on behind that closed door of yours."

She smirks proudly. "You're just jealous that I'm the one getting laid all night."

"At least until Herah started falling asleep during dinner." He counters. "I swear I saw her nearly plunge into her stew a week ago." He stands up. "Let's go somewhere we can talk in private."

They leave the tavern together, and Kaariss shoots a mean look to the patrons eyeing him. That ought to dissuade them from any ideas regarding his bag of gold coins. Inky joins them from outside, and they walk.

"Where are we goin'?"

"Back to camp."

"What?" Sera makes a sour face. "Went through all that trouble to go back, just like that?"

"I had to make sure everything looked genuine." He explains. "I started planning it the moment I heard that you were looking for jobs."

She complains all the way until they get to their horses, and the qunari's vein nearly protrudes from his skin by the time they get there. He grits his teeth, certain that he'd crush them with the sheer strength of his jaw, until they finally leave the gates. He waits until they're far enough from the guards before he starts talking.

"Herah was training to be a _karasaad_, a warrior, when her powers started to manifest. I think she was fifteen years old, at the time. She looked quite different, back then—no scars, bright eyes. She was a promising candidate to be part of the forces. Shok trained her himself, and I remember how she and Taashe used to fight over who got to spar with the old man more." He smiles fondly, his usually harsh features softening for just a bit. Then, just as quickly as it appears, it's gone again. He sighs. "One morning, she showed up with these dark circles under her eyes. She told me she had a strange dream, she couldn't sleep. We both brushed it off, until she saw scorch marks on her sword, exactly where she gripped it to block a strike. She went pale and looked like her life was about to be ruined, and I can't say I blame her."

"Yeah, you're all really pissy with mages, yeah?"

"It got worse." He grimly says. "She didn't want to tell it to Shok, thinking he'd report her to the higher ups. She didn't say much to me or Taashe, but we both kept quiet. We saw the sparks conjure on her fingertips, we saw ice forming on her mugs of water, things like that. She saw what they did to Katoh, and she didn't want that. She tried, she really did, but it just got worse. Shit, she was terrified—it all went to hell one night, when she had one of those dreams again. I never asked her what she dreamt, but she damn set her hut on fire. The hut she shared with everyone who saw what she did, everyone who sent her to the Arvaraad to get her collared like a dog."

"Then they bit her, she bit back harder." Sera impatiently fast forwards.

"It's not as easy as that." Kaariss frowns at the interruption. "We lived with people who raised us, taught us everything we knew. Before we knew anything outside of the Qun, we thought very differently from humans and elves. When you see a woman escaping an abusive bunch of savages, what the followers of the Qun saw was a woman who slaughtered her own kind.

Sera rolls her eyes obnoxiously. "Yeah, don't blame her one bit."

"The Saarebas are a group of unlucky sods." He doesn't mind her comment. "The more dangerous ones have their tongues cut off and bound-"

"Buckles told me 'bout this one." Sera frowns at him. "Don't want to hear it no more.

He nods. He wouldn't want to imagine a lover going through it, either. "Something was... wrong. We knew it when we heard the screams. She had pride, she wouldn't beg, but that didn't make the sounds any better. We thought they were just cutting off her tongue, but it couldn't have taken that long. She still won't tell me what happened in there."

She gives him an appalled glare. "Why didn't you bloody stop them, then?"

"Because that's just the way things were." He replies, with a little more bite than necessary. "That's just how things are in the Qun, we didn't know any better until we became Tal-Vashoth. Besides, we weren't about to fight a battle we were going to lose—it was an entire encampment against a bunch of teenagers, with the exception of Shok and Katoh."

"Well, you got out of the shithole , in the end." Sera stubbornly accuses.

Surprisingly, the scathing remark that Sera expects doesn't even come. Kaariss scowls, but the forward gaze that doesn't even remotely fall on her suggests that he's in deep thought. "That's right. We didn't expect it." Not one bit.

"Didn't expect what?" She hurriedly prods.

You. And her, too. "Herah, she went on a rampage." He says, voice trailing off as if he's revisiting the events of that fateful night in his head. 'Rampage.' There was much more to it than that. "There was no stopping her. She fucking slaughtered everyone there." Not just her. His lips tighten, and his fingers clutch harder on the reins of his horse. "We helped, but most of us probably did it so she'd know we didn't mean any harm, so she wouldn't butcher us too."

Nothing new. "She told me this one."

"After that, she ran. We had nowhere to go. If we went to another settlement, they'd know we helped her. Qunari don't take these things lightly, so we became mercenaries. The Valo-Kas." He says, his voice softening. "It was two years before we found her again. Turns out, she joined this other company and just got fired for roasting half their men to death."

Sera narrows her eyes. "You're not shitting me?"

"We took her in. She was too drunk to care about anything anymore. That's around the time she got the scars. Shit, she looked like a walking pincushion, and she fucking hated it too. Threatened to char anyone who looked at her wrong, and with a face like that, we had smoke trailing whenever she went. Most guards are even too scared to tell us off, so that's good. Otherwise, we'd all be in jail for even being seen with the girl. She... she also covered up all the time." He coughs nervously as he says this. "I think she didn't want us to see the scars on her body."

And she still does, even when the heat of summer is enough to even get Cassandra to take of some of her armor. Sera can't help but remember the rough, jagged lines around her Inquisitor's wrists—she can't tell if they're burn marks or lacerations or both. And then she recalls the lines and marks of her whole body, indentations and bumps that she's taken the time to know by heart.

_What did they do to you? _

"Imagine our surprise when we heard that she's this 'Herald of Andraste'." He chuckles, as if he still can't believe it. "Not even a few months after we got fired _again_ because that bullheaded idiot tried to kill our client, she wrote a letter to us and asked us to come meet her. And you know what? She didn't even sound like she was growling and threatening to flay anyone! When we got there, the oaf had another surprise—she had a girlfriend!"

Sera can't believe she's being quiet, but she still can't believe half the things he's saying about her Buckles. Her sweet, thoughtful Buckles.

"Not only that, but you grabbed her by the horns. She used to mangle _anyone_ who ever tried that." He looks at her, a rare show of respect on his face. He blushes, although he tries to hide it. "Um, so... does she... strip... during sex?"

A disgusted grimace. "What? You one of those people who-"

"Don't flatter yourself." He promptly interrupts her, looking offended. "I was just asking if she'd comfortable... showing the marks on her skin."

"How else am I supposed to eat her out? Fuck her through the knickers? That's stupid." She experimentally extends her tongue as far as she can, and Kaariss would be lying if he said that tongue of hers wasn't almost frighteningly long.

"You are one well hung lesbian." He murmurs, impressed.

Sera curls and uncurls her tongue, turning her head to the side as if trying to figure out how she'd really do it. A salacious smirk takes over her face and her eyes gleam with excitement. "No, not stupid. Figured it out. You're not too bad when you're not being a grump, yeah? Gonna try this on the girl when we get back."

Kaariss facepalms. "Your tent is next to mine. Please, don't."

"Too late." She sticks out her tongue again. "The Herald is going to be _touched _tonight."

The qunari groans. _What have I done?_

* * *

_Just one bottle. _

_She knows it won't help her sleep better, since it's just one, but it would help just a little bit. She misses Shok's perfect brews of his spiced maraas-lok, her own prized elixir that she'd never be able to live without. _

_Not anymore. _

_Leliana and Cassandra have obsessively kept watching eyes on her, sternly forbidding even a meager mug of ale to help her sleep. Gone are the good nights when she downs bottles and bottles from Shok's stash, passing out on her lumpy mattress, finally able to sleep when the alcohol chases away the nightmares. Her mind is only ever at peace when the drinks numb down the underlying terrors that snap at her the moment she closes her eyes. _

_Solas offers her a mixture of herbs and such to help her sleep, and they help. She only wakes up a few times each night, now, even though the nightmares persist. She's careful not to scream or shout or set an occasional fire, regular things that happen when she wakes up to the smell of burning flesh and the taste of metal in her mouth, senses that have haunted her for too long. _

_She doesn't want to wake Sera, after all, she reminds herself this when she looks to the other end of the tent. Oh, how she wants to curl up with the elf and kiss her in the morning, but the archer isn't hers. Not yet, anyway. It's obvious that the plucky thief is into her, but she just can't bring herself to sweep her off her feet—she deserves better than a woman whose face is permanently ruined with the scars of a night she'd much rather not think about, scars she has to face every time she looks at herself in the mirror. _

_Sera mumbles something in her sleep, and even in the dark, Adaar can see the full lips part invitingly. The pink is alluring against her creamy skin, as if begging for the qunari to claim them as her own. _

_She swears that she'll taste them one day, no one else but her._

Adaar's eyes snap open as the carriage suddenly stops, her head jolting up and her bloodshot eyes tearing open.

"Herah," Blackwall nods at her. "Nice dream?"

She yawns, frustrated with her inability to stretch her arms. This carriage is too damn small. "You can say that."

Cassandra crosses her arms stiffly, as if she's contemplating whether to shale off Varric's limp head from her shoulder. The dwarf snores blissfully in ignorance. "Did you go over the notes Josephine sent you?"

"I did." Adaar rubs her sleepy eyes. "Big importer, lots of money, charitable. Sounds like a nice woman."

"Good. Then let us go." The Seeker tells her, and then looking down to the slumbering merchant beside her.

"Aw, you care." Adaar smirks, cooing at the Nevarran, who glares sharply at her. "Sera doesn't have the heart to wake me either, when-"

"No." Cassandra nearly growls, turning her attention to Varric's slumped form. "Varric, wake up!" She shakes him violently.

Adaar chuckles. This is too easy. Varric grumbles about it all the way until they enter the orphanage, but the Seeker brushes him off coarsely. The building isn't overly fancy, but the well trimmed hedges and sturdy walls are testament to how well the place is cared for. She runs down the information through her head again.

What was the benefactor's name, again?

Shit. Adaar bites her lip, realizing that it's too late to ask the others now- the woman has walked into the room. The lady's brunette hair is pulled into an elaborate bun that looks like it's a braid at the same time. Although strands of gray run through the almond locks, her contemplative cerulean eyes still hold a certain youth and shrewdness to them. Adaar sees the faintest lines of wrinkles and laugh lines on the woman's face, which shows a kind smile that doesn't falter.

The woman's well tailored yet simple blue gown flows like waves around her ankles as she strides to the Inquisition agents' position. Adaar smiles back, wrecking her brain in her effort to remember just what this woman's name is.

"Inquisitor Adaar," Says the woman, her voice regal yet humble. "Seeker Pentaghast, Warden Blackwall, and Mr. Varric Tethras."

Shit. So she memorized all their names.

Fortunately for Adaar, the woman hasn't stopped talking. "My name is Taraline Emmald. Welcome to my humble orphanage."

Every single blood vessel in Adaar's body freezes. "Excuse me?" She laughs sheepishly, vowing to check her ears later. "I thought you said your name was Taraline _Emmald._"

"That's exactly what I said, Inquisitor." She politely tells her.

Adaar nods slowly, digesting the information at a snail's pace as her brain's machinations seem to halt. "Holy crap."

* * *

**Le gasp. What do you think is going to happen? **

**Alright guys, as usual, don't forget to R&amp;R and tell me what twists you'd like to see! Let me know how many of you are reading this regularly, so I'll know how much time I should dedicate to writing the next chapters. See you next week, or the next one! **


	26. Warm Family Reunion

Adaar rubs her eyes, her palms still sweaty and her voice still cracking uncontrollably. "L-Lady Emmald..." She clears her throat and puts the contract down on the table, turning it to face the merchant. "Are all these zeroes really correct?"

If they are correct, the Inquisition would soon be able to afford higher quality armor for the troops, more medicine for the wounded, and a bunch of other things that Adaar's currently calculating in her head. It would really lessen the load of her paperwork too, and that's something she knows she's looking forward to.

Emmald nods confidently. "Yes, they are. I heard about the Inquisition's efforts of feeding the poor and housing the homeless, and I'm very impressed. Not everyone up there thinks about the people down here." She looks down sadly, sipping her tea. Her eyes are far away, wistfully lost as she looks towards the playing children nearby. "Lady Emmald... It's been around ten years since anyone called me that."

_Oh, shit_. "Is that so?"

"It's a long story, Inquisitor." Emmald smiles apologetically.

"The day is still long." _Crap, now you've done it_. "Unless you have other things to attend to?"

"No, I don't." She neatly puts her teacup down, suddenly finding the swirling brown in it very fascinating. She often drank this exact blend of tea with her. It took her a long time to pick her tea set up again. "My husband was a kind man. He had the softest smile and the most tender eyes, and he was smiling, even when they gave his body to me. He was the captain of the guard, you see. I like to think that he died happy because he died saving this poor little girl from a ruthless guard who would rather butcher a child than admit that someone had stolen a piece of stale bread under his watch."

Adaar nods, her throat stiff.

"Yes, that's right. My husband died saving a thief. You may think it was ironic for a guard captain to die defending a criminal, but I didn't. He was doing the right thing, although a lot of people didn't think so. She was this little elf girl with big brown eyes and gapped teeth who had the most mischievous giggle and a bottomless stomach." An affectionate smile crosses her face, longing and wanting. "I should have been angry that he died, but any resentment I had just disappeared when I saw her. My husband gave his life for this girl who had to steal to eat and live. I could not think of a better cause to die for."

"And I could not think of a better man to be a husband and a guard captain."

She gives her a silent thankful smile for the comment. "I named the girl Sera."

_I know. _

"I taught her to read, to write, everything from mathematics to archery. Just the basics, but she picked them up quick." Her face lights up at memories from long ago. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how natural she was with numbers! She blew the tutors away. But her real talent was with a bow."

_Mathematics? That's new. _

"Harold was quite proficient with a bow. He was the one who taught me, and I passed it on to her. Imagine how surprised I was when I saw that she started shooting bullseyes at eleven years old!"

Adaar inconspicuously tries to look impressed. "She must've been quite the archer."

"She was." Emmald laughs. "She was troublesome, smart, talented, just like Harold. I knew, then, that I wanted to be the best mother to her."

"I see." Adaar says, leaning a little bit forward.

"I loved her, and she loved me. It was perfect. I was going to raise her into a kind and beautiful lady, be her side when she married." She clicks her tongue at the impossible fantasy. "At least, that's what I thought."

"What happened?" _You already know the answer._

"I lied about something." Emmald shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her clamped jaw enough to tell Adaar everything she needs to know. Her petite hands tense and she sighs regretfully. "I shouldn't have done it, Inquisitor." Her voice breaks for a second, but the woman won't let it do that again. "I saw her scream and cry of how much hatred she had for me as the city guards dragged her to the filthy prisons. I went to see her every day, but she would never talk to me. The last thing she said to me was how I was a liar and a hypocrite, and..." Tears begin to pool near the corners of her slightly wrinkled eyes, ones that she blinks away before they can fall into her now cold cup of tea. "She told me that she knew that she really didn't have anyone in this world, never have, and never will."

Adaar can only listen, although she wants so badly to argue, to tell her it's not true. Sera's got _her_. Emmald is wrong.

"I never saw her again, Inquisitor." She stops blinking away the tears, because they never come. She knows she's cried so much that she can't shed tears anymore, but it doesn't make the words go away. She remembers the rolling tears on the elf's cheeks, remembers how she screamed her hatred at the top of her lungs, and nothing can remedy that. Even time is not so kind as to rob her of that memory. "I heard... There was a demon who attacked the prison that night."

Adaar's attention is piqued. "What?" She's never heard of this before.

"The guards were found dead, all of them with horrific injuries. One of them wrote 'demon' on the walls with his own blood before he died." She lowers her voice to keep any of the kids from hearing her, leaning forward to whisper her next words. "Many of the corpses were burnt beyond recognition, blood streaking the walls and leaking out of every orifice in their bodies."

_Blood magic?_ "Wait," Adaar raises her hands. "How did you know it was a demon?"

"The only servant in the barracks had escaped. She claimed she saw a giant horned creature appear out of thin air, followed by a sickly green mist as it slaughtered the lot alive."

"Out of thin air?" Adaar thoughtfully rubs her chin. That does sound like a demon, although it seems a it off. "That's strange. Demons need to possess someone or something to come out of the Fade and into this world. They don't just appear."

"That's what the servant said. We suspected there was more to the story, but she wouldn't tell us more, no matter what." Emmald rectifies. "There was one person who was gone. That is what usually happens during possession, does it not? The person turns into an abomination."

Adaar slowly nods. Abominations do take several forms, so she doesn't find it difficult to imagine one fitting Emmald's description, but one that brings green mist?

"Sera was gone. The bars of her cell were molten through."

Adaar's eyes narrow. "Wait... You don't think..."

Emmald tiredly sighs. "Perhaps she was a latent mage and the stress of being in prison brought out the worst." Adaar catches her eyes for a second, and they gleam with thoughts of what was and what could have been, the latter being extinguished the moment she closes her eyes and opens them again. "Nevertheless, she is gone, and it was all my fault."

_She's not._ "Is that why you opened this orphanage."

"It is not redemption I seek, for there is nothing that can erase what I did." She looks the qunari straight in the eye, and Adaar is startled by how old she looks now. Her cerulean eyes dim with hopelessness, and her shoulders slump with a guilt from long ago. "I only hope that I can help these children from the same fate that claimed my poor Sera, and to honor my husband's sacrifice."

* * *

_"I have no idea what happened during her time here in this Inquisition," Kaariss tells her once the camp is in sight. "But whatever happened, it's because of you. Keep that in mind, because I don't know what will happen to her if you ever break it off with her for some reason or another." _

_She scoffs. "Me? Break it off with her? You're daft, I tell you." _

_"You don't know that." He frowns. "You really don't." He mutters under his breath, a certain finality to his words._

He separated with her after that, telling her that they shouldn't be seen together, because "Shok is going to kick my ass if he finds out about this." She doesn't mind, because she's got a fat bag of coins in her pocket and she's been promised that more will be waiting for her in Skyhold.

She tries to remember to the best of her ability. What was Adaar like when she first met her? Quieter than she is now, certainly, but she simply dismissed it as her being shy, or at least because she wasn't head over heels smitten with her yet. She's honed her bullshit detector quite well over the years, and said detector tells her that Kaariss isn't lying. But why would he give her bags of money to tell her not to break up with her girlfriend, anyway?

A small gust of wind blows the boisterous scent of fresh stew to her, and her stomach growls. Her steps grow longer and faster as she licks her lips, turning the corner to find Solas calmly sipping a mug of warm milk as Adaar slowly stirs the pot of hot stew. The elf mage seems to be chuckling over an incoherent sentence that Adaar had told him a few moments before, his smile only dropping once his eyes land on her.

"Ah, you're here." Is all he says to her. "There's some stew for you."

Sera expects Adaar to sweep her up into her arms and lavish her in attention, like she usually does, but she merely looks up at her and smiles. "You're back pretty late."

Solas stands, casually patting Adaar's shoulder as he walks away. "I will be in my tent if you need me."

Adaar gives him a look of acknowledgment before she grabs the empty bowl from atop a chair. After giving the pot a light stir with an old wooden ladle, she pours a generous serving of potatoes, carrots and bits of meat into the bowl, filling it until it's full. "We need to talk."

Sera's stomach drops. Whatever the context, those four words never mean anything good. "Oh no." She lets it slip out, her voice dripping with anxiety. "There's someone else? Or you're just bored?" Maybe fatigue isn't the only reason Adaar hasn't been ravishing her until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Maybe she's tired of the disapproving glares and well-intentioned chastises from Mother Giselle.

"What?" Adaar balks, half laughing at the mere idea. "No, of course not."

Sera audibly sighs in relief when Adaar chortles at the very idea, walking over to her with the steaming bowl of stew and kissing her on the crown of her head. The elf can't believe she's starting to jump to conclusions like some common clingy girlfriend. She has no idea why she would think Adaar would just leave her, but a little voice in her head whispers otherwise. _Shut up._

"Hey," Adaar tugs on her hand once she hands her the bowl. "Let's go talk in our tent."

"W-What's wrong?" Sera stammers, her voice trembling enough for Adaar to notice. She almost forgets about the growling in her stomach.

"I'll tell you once we're alone." She opens the tent flap, hurriedly stepping in. The pointy edges of her horns briefly catch on the top of the flap, but she adjusts herself before she tears through it. Again.

Sera reluctantly follows close, the quiet in the tent unwittingly alerting her of her rapidly thumping chest. She sits down next to Adaar when the Tal-Vashoth pats the empty spot next to her on the mattress. "So..."

Adaar opens her mouth and then shuts it again, as if she's unsure of what to say. "I... Um..." She pauses for a while. "I met Lady Emmald today. I figured I should tell you or and avoid the conflict altogether, unlike the protagonists of Cassandra's novels. Even I'm not that fucking dumb." She says, like a child confessing to stealing the last cookie in the jar.

Sera blinks once, and then twice. "What the fuck?"

"Yep." Adaar draws it out awkwardly. "I may have fallen asleep tonight and forgot to check the name of the benefactor that Josephine wanted us to meet." Sera's mouth is still agape, the bowl of stew in her hands untouched. "There's... No way to say this without being awkward, is there?"

Sera scowls. "I don't want to meet her. Tell her to bugger off."

"Sera," Adaar breathes deeply. "She thinks you're dead. And your stew is getting cold."

She shrugs off how Adaar can even think about food right now, but she puts a spoonful of potato chunks and carrots in her mouth. She really is pretty hungry. "You didn't tell her?" She grumbles.

"And risk your wrath?" Adaar wryly asks. "Nope."

The archer doesn't even bother with a humorous response. "What's that bitch doing with the Inquisition anyway?"

"She's funding us, Sera. The contract had a lot of zeroes in it." Adaar explains, carefully picking her next words. "She heard about our efforts to help the homeless and victims of the red templars. As the most charitable noble in Ferelden, she wants in on the action."

Sera would call her out on her phrasing, but she has other things in mind. "What's she like, now?" She asks, a tinge of curiosity in the question.

"Regretful. Tired. Nice, though."

"Good." The elf scowls, without a hint of remorse in the words she speaks. "I hope she fuckin' dies, that lyin' pit viper bitch."

"Sera..."

"Don't." Sera put down her bowl. "We're not gonna hug in some nice family reunion and cry about it, fine? Fine."

"I wasn't about to tell you to do that." Adaar says, an involuntary yawn rising up. She tries to not look at the stack of papers she has to sign, conveniently sitting on her table and waiting for her to scribble on them. "She told me something interesting about the night you escaped."

"Don't know what happened, but I got out because of it." Sera nonchalantly shrugs.

"She mentioned a demon or an abomination wrecking the prison and killing everyone there. You disappeared after the attack." Adaar knows Sera well enough to guess that she probably won't care to find out more about it, period. "What do you remember?"

Sera doesn't give her an answer, only the resentful frown on her face to show that she heard the question. "Not much, since I was lying half dead on the floor? Whatever. I just remembered everyone screaming, and me thinking they all friggin' deserved every moment of it. The demon or whoever made it last real nice and long." She smirks, a wickedness that Adaar has never before seen on her face rearing it's head. She chuckles coldly. "I passed out, or maybe I didn't. Hard to tell. Next thing I know, the qunari lady I told you about was carrying me to an inn."

Adaar sets the bowl aside and scoots herself closer to her. "Emmald thought you were a latent mage. She told me that you probably turned into abomination from the stress sparking your magical abilities and killed everyone."

A strong arm is slung around her shoulder. Sera doesn't make a move to reciprocate. "Well, look at her, spitting up lies again. Fucking snake."

"She didn't know what happened, love." Adaar tries to correct her, only to be met by a stubborn glare. "Believing you were dead helped her move on. She didn't spread it around, or else you would have heard about it sooner."

Right. "And then she opened orphanages in just about every city in Ferelden that's got more than two farms in it, building shelters in Kirkwall after the damn chantry got blown to hell and some other shit that's got to need piles of money to get done." She huffs, pulling up her knees and lying down her chin on her crossed arms. "Couldn't even get to piss her off, even for a bit. I just wanted to get the hell away from that fuck, don't care how much gold she's spent trying to make up for it."

"Sera-"

"Herah!" Solas barrels into the tent, just nearly tripping into the empty bowl by the mattress. "Cassandra isn't taking it well. Varric... Well, you might want to see them."

"I hope you know that I am not going to get in the way of Cassandra and her fists." Adaar deadpans as she pushes herself up, following the mage outside. She gives Sera a sorry look as she turns to find the pair. "Her iron-clad fists, no less." She mutters.

* * *

For a lack of better words, Sera is bored, quite mad, and there's nothing for her to do. One of Leliana's ravens carried a message from Iron Bull, Dorian, Blackwall and Vivienne, telling them that they will be back to their camp tomorrow due to some typical problem or another during one of their endeavors.

That leaves her with Adaar, Varric, Cassandra, and Solas, and all of them are dealing with whatever it is Cassandra is livid about, which really could be anything. With a sigh, she walks out into the cold night air, thinking that she's better off watching them discuss important things than just sleeping alone. It doesn't take long until she hears Cassandra's voice, and even shorter to see what's going on.

The Seeker is literally shaking with rage, her cheeks flushed red and her hands curled like stone into hard fists that look ready to lash out at anyone within three feet of her position. Her dagger is buried to the hilt in the wood of the table, while Varric silently sits and looks down at the old grip of the weapon instead of it's owner's face.

A further inspection of Cassandra's face shows a suspicious lack of murder in her eyes, a fire that Sera often observes during their battles together. Of course, there's rage, but not the usual ones that drive her into her usual tirades. There's hurt, sadness, betrayal. "You lied to me, Varric. You said you didn't know where she was!"

"God damn it, Seeker, I'm sorry." Varric sighs, for once having no idea what words to say. "I know I lied, but I had to. If I had told you, you probably would have thrown her in jail!"

"Do you know why I wanted to find Hawke? Find Queen Cousland?" Cassandra's voice is slow and gruff, like an animal about to pounce. She certainly looks like one, with the feral snarl on her face.

Varric doesn't answer.

"She or the Queen could have been the Inquisitor and saved Justinia, prevented all this from ever happening!" She spits the words out, pointing an accusatory finger towards him. "I thought their disappearance was related, but no." She stares down at him, disgusted. "It was just you."

"You have no idea what Hawke has gone through." Varric stands. He has a lot to stand on before he reaches her height, but he doesn't think about that. "Every templar in Thedas is looking for the woman who killed the Knight-Commander. We have an Inquisitor already, someone who agreed to being one. Hawke?" He raises his head in defiance. "She wouldn't have agreed to become one, anyway."

Cassandra's stern gaze doesn't waver. "I was a blighted fool to trust you, Varric. I knew you lied, and still, you spun your story and I bought it." Adaar keeps quiet, for a while. She has never seen the Seeker so raw, so vulnerable. The qunari fears that one wrong word will undo everything, and so she doesn't spreak.

"I did, Cassandra." Varric's voice goes soft at the sound of her name. "I'm sorry. That was the only time, I promise."

Doubt still lingers in Cassandra's gaze, still and not moving. Finally, she turns around, pinching the brow. She's surprised to find angry tears brewing by the corners of her eyes, but damn if she lets anyone see them. "Leave me, Varric."

Sera feels a tap on her shoulder. She swats the hand away, facing the intruder, only to be met by someone who she doesn't recognize. The first thing she notices is the streak of blood red across the woman's nose, and the second is a pair of brilliant blue eyes that seem to stand out all the more against the woman's fair skin, slightly tanned from her long travels in the wilderness. Her short brown hair moves gently as the wind blows through. She doesn't even hear the rising voices and overturned chairs and tables, courtesy of the lovely Seeker Pentaghast.

The stranger pulls her aside, and Sera would punch her in her pretty nose if she hasn't already guessed who she is. "So, warm family reunion?" Hawke asks, her eyes dulled with fatigue but still twinkling bright.

* * *

Alright, shit will start to get real very, very soon. The reason I made Cassandra not try to punch Varric like she did in the game is because I think the Inner Circle should be pretty closer than they are in the game. Of course, they have their disagreements and most of them aren't BFFs, but fighting for your life with someone kinda brings you closer together, don't you think?

**So, yeah, I was able to crane out an update during a weekday, for once. Yay? As usual, I'm open to recommendations for plot twists/scenes that may be used in the future chapters. I only have two hands, so tell me how many of you are still reading this and I'll try to push out another update quickly, depending on how much responses I get. I'll be working on my other fics, meanwhile. **

Thanks for reading!


	27. Calm Before the Storm

**Long time no see. I've been rereading some of the previous chapters, and the first ones are horrible as fuck. If you remember them, you'll probably notice that I didn't exactly plan on a plot back then. I omitted/changed some of the things from the earlier chapters, which are more like "a day in the life of-" chapters than the plot based ones we have now.**

**I have no excuse for this poor planning, so I'm sorry. I just changed things to sound less awkward and cringeworthy (although if I wanted to eliminate them all, I'd have to rewrite the first chapters and I'm too darn lazy.) One of the things I changed is so that Sera is unaware of Adaar's previous use of blood magic (which she admitted to some time in the beginning of the story).**

**So yeah. Sorry.**

* * *

"You see, that's why we need to head there now." Echoes Stroud's voice.

"Now?" Adaar's voice sounds troubled.

Hawke nods. "That's the best option, yes. Gather up everyone and go straight to Adamant."

The cave is dingy, dark, and horribly moist. Sera's had worse places to sleep in before, but it's hard to imagine a Grey Warden here. They're supposed to be strong, proud warriors with nothing to hide from. She sits in the corner of her room, resting her aching legs. The damn undead gave her no small amount of trouble, and that's before the mud and branches are taken into account. She's going to have to wash out her boots with something very strong when they get back to camp.

She shivers, the hairs on her body standing straight up as a draft of wind passes by her. Stupid rain, stupid bogs, stupid everything. Even though Inky is curled up on her lap, the dog's fur is still wet and cold.

"Whenever you frown, the Fade comes closer, somehow." Cole suddenly says, eyeing her curiously from the sides. "It's like there are invisible strings in the corner of your mouth, sewn into the very seams of the realm. Did you know that?" He asks this with a slight lilt in the end. His hat sags with the weight of rainwater soaked into it, almost completely concealing his face.

Sera groans, much too talk. "Bloody no."

Cole still sees her with those eyes of him, searching like he can see right through her and more. "But it's pressed down, hidden somewhere dark and small. It knows it's there, trying to press through-"

"Nope, not listening." Sera stubbornly presses her palms to her ears, ineffectively blocking any noise from outside. The only reason why she isn't hearing him anymore is because he's stopped.

Finally taking his hat off, Cole finally shows her his face. He's puzzled, and his pale complexion seems all the whiter in the dark. His bangs stick to his face, the boy not even bothering to fix them. "I'm sorry. Did I make you scared?"

_Yes_. "No," She hotly denies. "That thing you do, what _even_ are you saying?"

"Are you two getting along, right there?" Comes Adaar's amused voice.

Sera is relieved to see her walking their way as Stroud collects his pack and Hawke stretches her limbs. It looks like it's time to go. "No. Rain's gotten to your head, hasn't it?"

Adaar flicks away a strand of wet hair that falls in front of her eyes, looking apologetic to the both of them. "I know the two of you are cold. Hell, my tits are just about freezing, but we have a change of plans. We're going back to camp, then once we call everyone back, we're heading to the Western Approach."

"Aw, shite," Sera groans audibly. "So we're going from bein' ass deep in swamp to sand in my knickers."

"So don't wear any." Adaar suggests, looking as if she's completely serious.

"Hardy har, you." Sera snickers as she considers the idea. "I'll probably get off from the saddle, then no more for you!"

"I like the Western Approach." Cole smiles. "The wyverns sing soft chirps when they don't see anyone nearby."

Adaar laughs softly as she offers the assassin her hand. "I wish I could be so optimistic."

* * *

It's stopped raining by the time they get back to camp, but that doesn't make it any better. If anything, the wind just keeps picking up, and even the coat on Adaar's shoulders doesn't completely save her from the biting cold. The crackling campfire behind her doesn't penetrate her thick layer of soaked clothes.

She rests her hands on the table, a dull throb on the back of her head as her fingers involuntarily shiver. Her writing is unusually wonky, but it gets the job done—nothing else is on her head right now, save for a hot bath that she would probably sell her bed for. When she finally finishes writing two copies of the damn letter, she folds them up just as a scout passes her. "Jenkins?"

The scout turns around at the unexpected call of his name. "Inquisitor?"

"Please send this to Iron Bull's camp and Seeker Pentaghast's." She hands out the papers, which the scout dutifully takes.

"Of course, Inquisitor." He says, before he scurries off towards the bird cages. Adaar has always wondered how Leliana trained them.

"Thank you." She says, loud enough for him to hear, and then she doesn't delay her brisk walk to her own tent. The weather seems to detest her today. Furious winds after a pouring rain is a combination that never goes well, and she's reminded of it again as her greaves squish during her short travel.

Adaar ducks when she walks into her tent, deciding that a roof with horn-shaped holes is not what she needs right now. She quirks her eyebrow. "Well, what did I do to deserve this?"

Sera pushes herself off the wood of the tub, wiping her brow at her piece of work—Adaar's wooden tub is filled with a nice amount of steaming water, and she gives herself a metaphorical pat on the back when she notices the frown slightly lift from Adaar's face, just enough to show how pleased she is. "I'm always this nice, you tit. Now get in before it's cold."

Adaar gladly shrugs off her coat, which heavily lands on the ground. Her shirt clings to her skin, muscled shoulders taut against the dark magenta fabric. "First you bring me snacks at work, then it's all my meals, and now you're preparing baths?" One button comes loose, followed by another. "Are you going to dress me, next?"

Sera snorts, watching the shirt fall to the ground. "I'm more of an _un_dressing kind of girl, right?" Lean muscle and wide shoulders are exposed, abdomen glinting as a droplet of water rolls down between the ridges of her stomach.

The qunari pulls down her fly, letting her pants sag before they join the pile of clothes below, flinging it away from her ankles. "Now all I need is a nightly lap dance and my life will be complete." She suggestively wriggles her eyebrows, hand reaching behind to unclasp her bra in one practiced move.

"Keep dreaming." She smirks, letting her eyes wander over toned legs, watching as fingers hook down on each side of a brand new pair of black panties. Adaar pulls them down faster than Sera would like, but her eyes still linger.

Adaar doesn't bother dipping her foot slowly into the water. She merely drops herself inside, groaning loudly as the cold droplets on her skin are washed off by a current of warmth. She lowers herself, soaking every part of herself until only her eyes and horns are left dry.

Seconds pass as she submerges herself in the warmth, cupping the steaming water and splashing it over the rest of her head that can't make it into the water. She'll have to requisition a larger tub. It's not until she rests the back of her head to the wood does she notice Sera's messy hair and wrinkled clothes. "You haven't bathed yet." She realizes.

"Nah," Sera shrugs it off, before she puts her hands on her hips. "What, you gonna invite me in?"

A contented sigh. "You know me too well."

Sera unties the laces of her tunic, the piece of clothing she loves so much making a wet sound as it falls. The cool air that hits her skin immediately dissuades her from her previous idea to take it slow and make the Tal-Vashoth in the tub squirm. Releasing a shivering breath, she hurriedly removes the rest of her clothing and hurries to the tub. It takes far too long for Adaar to open her legs, letting the elf settle between her. The heat from the water and the dark gray skin of the Inquisitor soothes her chilled back and she finally releases the tension in her shoulders when her head falls below the surface of the water. She shuts her eyes, for a moment listening only to the swirling water around her. Only when a set of arms loop between her from behind and she feels her breath running short does she push herself up, taking a deep breath when water cascades down from her hair to her neck before finally falling back down.

"Hard day of work, hm?" Adaar pecks a small kiss to her shoulder.

"Your fault," She teases, leaning comfortably back into the qunari's chest. Her unbound breasts are soft against her back as she lets her head roll back into Adaar's collarbone. "You and your boring meetings, standing there just _talking._"

"I thought you'd like watching me talk. I angled myself so you could check out my ass."

Sera leans her head back, happy to see Adaar lowering hers to give her a sweet kiss. "Well shit, I couldn't see any ass thanks to that coat of yours. Waste of stuff, that thing."

"Talking about talking... we're not splitting up at the Western Approach."

The thought immediately strikes Sera as a strange one. "What? Don't you usually split the nine of us so we can get more stuff done?"

"Nope." Adaar says, her voice low and tired. "...Something big's happening there, Sera. We'll need everyone."

"What is it?" She mumbles, only-half listening. Her eyes begin to droop, but she catches herself before they close. "I know about the Grey Wardens being bloody stupid, but so what, right? Blackwall and that other guy with the 'stache are gonna talk 'em down."

"I'm expecting the worst." Adaar admits, her lips pressing together into a thin line."We might have to fight them if push comes to shove. I'm not taking chances against one of the finest fighters in Thedas, especially if we're going to be outnumbered."

Sera reaches out her hand to stroke her cheek, lightly tracing the curve of her jaw. "You gotta relax." She sits herself up, turning over to face her lover, purposely scooting herself closer to her and pressing their breasts together as she hangs an arm around Adaar's hard shoulders. "You've been so _tense_, Buckles."

A sympathetic smile crosses Adaar's face as she lowers her hand to the small of Sera's back. "I saw you trip during the way back, earlier. Too sleepy to keep your eyes on the road?"

"Fuck that." Sera furthers herself into the qunari's lap. "You need some loosening up, yeah? You're turning into one of them broody beards."

She can't help but laugh. "Are we actually going to clean ourselves up or are we just going to use this as an excuse to fuck? I have a feeling that neither of us want soap in _places._"

Sera groans. She's the one who set this bath up and she's the first one to forget all about the unused bar of soap and shampoo that sits beside the tub. The yellow bar looks almost sad and lonely down there. "Right, let's get this over with and bloody sleep already."

Adaar's long arms give her no trouble in fetching the shampoo. She squirts it into her hand, seeming almost too small for her massive palm. She puts the bottle on the side of the tub and evens it out with her other hand. Sera has to remind herself to keep her eyes open when the fingers begin lathering through her hair, only taking a few short moments before they begin massaging her scalp. She almost doesn't think when she spills a bit too much shampoo into her own hand, intermingling her smaller fingers into the Inquisitor's longer hair.

Sera hums in approval, barely noticing the fingers that slide across her back, leaving trails of suds behind. By the time Adaar's hair is absolutely covered in the pleasant scent of the shampoo, the elf takes the soap from her qunari's hand. The hands that wander her back soon turn to her lean arms, and soon everywhere. Once she's completely covered in small bubbles and the scent of some Orlesian flower that she can't find herself to recognize, Adaar's hands simply drop to the water.

The Red Jenny still generously runs her hands over Adaar's relaxed muscles, smiling when the qunari leans into her gently, her chin propped up on a slender shoulder.

A small snore vibrates by Sera's ear. At first, she's not sure if she's actually hearing it, but she hears it again—soft, low, and tired. She pulls away, holding her Inquisitor's shoulders in her hands. Adaar's head is tilted back, her mouth slightly open as her breathing slows. Her chest rises and falls with every breath, accompanied by meek snores and a sag of her shoulders.

She's actually _asleep_.

* * *

**I've been a bit distracted by my other activities. Writer's block is a bitch. Have any suggestions? Give 'em to me.**

**Once again, I've been pretty busy because I'm about to move to Vancouver for college. A whole other country. I may drop off the radar for a bit because I've been wanting to write some Final Fantasy XIII, Tomb Raider and Mass Effect. I'm not gonna start most of them soon, but who knows?**

**Is this fic's readers still alive? I've been MIA for almost two weeks :(. I'm sorry for the short update. The next ones will be longer, and shit will get down. **


	28. Abyss

**ATTENTION: TRIGGER WARNING FOR ALMOST RAPE. **

**Shit goes down.**

* * *

Whoever thought that invading a fortress of Grey Wardens and demons at night was a good idea should be kicked right in the fun bags. At least, that's what Sera thinks.

It turns out she's right, because the six of them are in the middle of a damn battle between Grey Wardens and their own mages. _Mages_. Sera shudders. _Why does it always have to be mages?_

She had thought that Adaar, Hawke, and Stroud's speech would calm them down, and it _did_—until the mages threw the first rock at some unsuspecting swordswoman. Just like that, they lost one of their own and a rage demon sprung from her corpse. Another life needlessly lost.

Sera wishes Iron Bull or Blackwall would barge in and stand in front of her, but no dice; Adaar had ordered everyone but them to assist the soldiers. She's glad to have Stroud and Cassandra with her, though.

An orb of electricity crackles to life above the swarm of warring Wardens and demons, arcs of electricity zapping through every mage and Fade-born creature in vicinity. Adaar raises her iron-clad arm, and an explosion of fire immolates the ones unfortunate enough to be trapped in the electric sphere. Fire and electricity combine in a deadly circle, filling the chilly night's air with smoke and a strong scent of blood. Those left helpless in the sphere are charged by Cassandra and Stroud's combined assault, swiftly taken out while they're still being thrown back and forth by the jolts of lightning.

Hawke slams her staff to the ground, and ice springs from the ground below her, splitting and seeking the stragglers like starved serpents. Varric covers her well, his crossbow bolts completely distracting the demons, who notice the burst of cold heading towards them too late. The two rage demons are too slow to avoid, and they're consumed by the ice, roaring into the night as their limbs are snapped frozen, left out for the Grey Warden warriors to finish.

Sera takes a shot before they can reach the frozen demon, her arrow piercing through easily through the head. One more goes through, and it shatters to the ground. She smirks—she wouldn't be Sera if she didn't frequently steal kills from unexpected allies. While the Warden warriors are busy with the other demon, one lone mage throws a ball of fire to the ground, effectively neutralizing Hawke's freezing spell before it reaches him.

She pulls. _Breathe in, breathe out_. She releases.

A bulls-eye, quite literally—the arrow comfortably lodges itself in his eye. The mage stands in shock for a second as his vision grows dark, and then he falls.

After that, it's only the matter of picking out opportunities and using them. Every time anyone is staggered by Hawke and Adaar's magic or rendered off balance by a well timed shield bash, an unexpected arrow always does the trick.

Another job well done.

"Alright, let's get to the Warden Commander." It only takes a few steps for Adaar to reach the top of the stairs, at which she turns around wait for her companions, whose legs aren't nearly as long as hers. "We need—"

Dark wings beat like thunder in the night, followed by a growl that can only come from the deepest pits of hell. The fort suddenly shakes, and Sera has to brace herself on the stairs' railing to keep herself standing. Black scales roll into sight, razor sharp teeth ready to sink into flesh. The Archdemon's head pokes in and searches the hallway.

It finds it's targets.

Hellfire sprays out of the dragon's throat in a long burst, darker and hotter than any other flame in the natural world. "Get away!" Sera leaps, throwing her entire weight into her shoulder. Adaar tumbles at the surprisingly strong tackle, falling behind a pillar that's just out of sight from the dragon's searching eyes.

Hawke leaps forward and throws up a barrier just in time to prevent the Archdemon from having another serving of roast elf for dinner. The sweat visibly pours from her pores as she holds the fires back. "Everyone, get back!" She grunts, digging her heels to the ground. "Now!"

Adaar hurriedly pulls Sera into her lap, pulling her to her chest. Should any fire come through the barrier, the rogue won't be hurt. Stroud hides himself behind another pillar, while Cassandra drops to the stairs and raises her shield, just in case.

"Hawke!" Varric runs towards her, only to be harshly pulled down by the one and only Seeker Pentaghast. He unceremoniously falls into her arms, safely behind her shield.

"Stay down, Varric." Cassandra's grip is tight around him.

The magic spread around her barrier recedes and warps around Hawke in a glowing bright concave around herself, and that's the last thing anyone sees of her. The fires burst through, and Adaar further tightens her hold on her smaller woman as pure heat zooms behind her.

She silently hopes her horns aren't being melted.

It feels like forever before the flames stop. She can hear Varric's frantic screaming of Hawke's name, but all she knows is that something warm, wet and thick is coating her fingers. She raises her hand. Fresh blood is seeping though the gaps of her gauntlet, red staining and rolling down steel.

Sera bites down on her own bottom lip as the searing heat lingers on her shoulders. It stings worse than fire ants chewing on her skin, and _shit_, she can smell her own charred flesh.

The beating of wings grow distant.

"Come on," Hawke says, releasing the barrier. She heaves a heavy breath as the sweat trickles down her cheeks. The inside of her armor feels boiling hot, just like the fires that threatened to cook her alive. She wipes her forehead from the moisture. "It flew off somewhere, but I have a feeling it won't be gone long."

"You're hurt." Adaar frowns, pulling the elf up by her waist, mindful of the pained grimace on her face.

"I'm good." Her fingers shake from the sheer burns that mar her flesh. The chilly night wind blows into the wound, and the grimace on her face turns into a full on whimper.

Large fingers close over Sera's bicep with no intention on letting go. Adaar knows she isn't particularly proficient with healing, but she has Hawke. She rejects the idea—they'll be running full stop, there won't be any time. "Stay back."

"Fuck no." Sera stubbornly stands her ground, pulling her arm.

The fingers don't let go. "Look at your shoulder, Sera, the fire burned clean through!"

"Decide quickly." Any trace of the Champion of Kirkwall's humor is gone. "We need to get to Erimond."

Sera doesn't break eye contact with Adaar as she reaches for the bottle of poultice on her shoulder. She pops it off with one flick of her practiced thumb and pours it directly on her open wound. Even with the adrenaline that still pumps through her ears, the bitterness of the liquid lights her flesh on fire. She grits her teeth, refusing to let the pained grunt escape from her lips. "I'm going."

Adaar gives her one last stubborn look, the corners of her lips growing increasingly lower as the seconds tick by. When her steely gaze seems to have no effect whatsoever, she sighs, knowing there's no metal in Thedas harder than Sera's skull. The qunari herself could even headbutt her and reel back in pain.

She removes her hand from Sera's arm and moves it to the tip of her chin. The questioning look on the elf's face is cut off but a brief kiss, so quick that she wonders what the Inquisitor is thinking.

Adaar draws her sword, the sound of metal being released ringing ominously in the air. "Everyone, stay back."

* * *

She can't let anyone through.

Adaar charges recklessly at the remaining stragglers. It's all a blur to her, but her patterns are the same—use magic to incapacitate, and go for the kill with her unsheathed sword. The spirit sword leaves ghostly trails of the Fade's green tinge as it sails through the air. She cleaves through everyone in her way, cutting her way through the halls they need to pass.

No one is foolish enough to try and help her. Her movements are so careless and callous that any assisting cover fire or flank would just end up as friendly fire. It's the fourth time Hawke extinguishes the flames in her hands, afraid that one misplaced attack would end up burning a hole in the Inquisitor's armor.

They already have one injured ally. They don't need any more, if the blood trickling down Sera's fingers is any indication.

Once they reach the very top of the fortress, Adaar breaks into a full out sprint. Clarel is mercilessly showering Erimond with blast after blast of magical energy, sending him sprawling farther again and again onto the ancient stone flooring. Dark clouds swirl in the air, the same color as the Archdemon's leathery wings. The winds howl like distant cries of pain, but that might just be the sound of battles from the soldiers below.

Cassandra and Stroud are ahead, sprinting with Hawke and Sera trailing behind. The Red Jenny curses when she realizes she's falling behind. Every turn of her shoulder sends a pulling, tearing pain down her consciousness as her wound stretches with every sprint.

Adaar's grip on her spirit sword tightens. She can't wait to plunge it right into Erimond's chest, to butcher him until he's drowning in his own blood. Her ears pound with rage, and all she can see is the Venatori being tossed about by the Warden Commander. Her vision is a tunnel, and he's in the very middle of it.

"Herah!"

She hears screaming from behind her. _What is it?_ She doesn't know and she doesn't care. The qunari growls savagely as she nears him, lifting up her sword.

The sound of crunching bone and spurting blood fills the air, but it isn't Erimond. The Archdemon has swooped down and taken Clarel into it's powerful jaws. The Grey Warden's staff clatters to the ground as her body is lifted up, but that doesn't stop Adaar.

The blade tears into Erimond's stomach like a knife cutting into warm butter. She buries it as deep as she can before she roughly tears it out, spraying blood and gore to the ground. The Venatori could handle Clarel's righteous rage, but now he trembles at the sight of the mountainous monster before him. "Get away from me!" He screams, turning over to his back, trying to crawl away. More red stains the stone tiles below. He screams to the sky, willing the dragon to save him, because it's the only thing that can.

Suddenly, he can't feel his legs. He can't move them either, but he tries with all his might to drag himself to safety with his arms, wherever that is. He's not getting any farther, but there's a good reason for that—Adaar's sword is effectively buried in his spine. She doesn't even take a second to appreciate the look on his face when he realizes that no one can rescue him now, not that she has the change to do that when something crashes into her with a force that almost sends her reeling.

She instinctively turns around to find Clarel at her feet. She's soaked in red, her armor torn and recognizable no more. The proud blue of the Grey Wardens' sigil, or at least the parts that are still intact, is covered in the blood of it's own Warden Commander. Clarel coughs, choking on her own blood, but even though her eyes are beginning to darken, she still stares down the Archdemon.

A bolt of lightning to the dragon's leg brings it's attention away from the two. Instead, it turns around to the direction of the Champion of Kirkwall, accompanied by a wounded archer, a Seeker of Truth, a dwarf with a crossbow, and a Grey Warden warrior. The Archdemon roars, the very sound rumbling into the heavens, and then it leaps.

_No_. Adaar pays Erimond no more heed. She has to get there. She doesn't care if Cassandra's successfully hunted dragons before.

The run there takes far too long. She hopes with everything she has that the dragon doesn't breathe it's fire—the five of them are at a dead end, not all of them will survive it. Her chest thuds wildly as she wrecks her brain for ideas.

What can she do? _What can I do?_

She's getting close to the dragon, she has to figure it out now. "Fucking hell." She hisses. Why can't she think of anything?

Arrows and bolts rain on the dragon's face, but it seems that the any pain the dragon feels is doubled by rage. It steps forward again, this time raising it's sharp claws.

Adaar jumps and sticks her sword deep into the dragon's tail. The creature reels in pain, and for a moment, the qunari lets her guard down—that is, until her feet are lifted from the ground and the tail she's hanging onto lashes like a whip. Before she can register what's happening, something hard collides with the side of her skull and her sword is out of reach.

A scream. "Buckles!"

Adaar's right eye is streaked with red. Her vision is spinning as she fight to lift her head from stone. She brings her hand to her head—blood, of course. Her legs tremor with every forced signal her brain sends to stand, and the Inquisitor is sent tumbling back down, helpless do do anything but watch as the dragon descends onto her companions. The Archdemon resumes lifting it's claws as dark, oozing liquid seeps from the arrows and bolts stuck in it's hide. Adaar can't see what's going on from where she's standing, but when it snaps it's jaws, a loud clang is followed by a loud cry.

It throws it's head up in an agonized roar as it's left eye swims in black sludge, and it swings it's claws down in a frantic attempt to catch something, anything. The first swing catches Sera's arms. Long lines of read burst with red, staining her crimson tunic.

Adaar's heart jumps to her throat—the claw is going to hit her, it's going to hit Sera again. The qunari can't stand and she doesn't know where the hell her sword is. Every crackle of magic she summons dies within the first few seconds.

She does the only thing she can: she holds her hand out and she shouts, watching the blood drain from Sera's face. The Fade's green glow launches from her hand like a flare. Adaar doesn't get the chance to wonder what the _fuck_ she just did, but her chest feels like it's been emptied the moment she realizes that the flare misses.

It's headed straight towards Sera, and the elf can only lift her arms to shield herself.

_No._

The flare goes through her tunic, her flesh, but it doesn't hurt her. She looks down in a mixture of fear and awe as it glows inside her chest, pulsing in sync with her rapid heartbeats.

And then it explodes.

A rush of air hits Adaar like a cannonball to the stomach. The smell of magic is strong in the air, and all she can see is the green, swirling mist of the Fade. She sees the fog around her shift, the ground below her changing as she suddenly finds herself standing upright.

She's not in Adamant Fortress. The air is cold around her, and everything is dark. She's in a cramped hallway with empty jail cells lined up, only the chatter of two guards unfortunate enough to have the night shift filling the silence. She's standing right behind them and they have absolutely no idea.

They're inside of of the smaller cells, with the door wide open. A small child with dirty blonde hair that reaches her mid-back lies on the ground, only a ratty old shirt to keep her warm. She lies still on the ground. The place doesn't even have a bed for her to sleep in, and the tray of food by the door has been licked clean.

"It's no good letting her just stew here, you idiot."

"You're the idiot." The second guard retaliates. "Putting stale bread just out of reach from her never gets old. Come on, she's the only fun we have around here."

"Well, if we had more money, we'd have other ways to have fun." The suggestion in his voice doesn't go unnoticed.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Whorehouses pay good for one of them elves. And this one's still young, we'd get more than that old geezer we sold last time."

The little girl turns her head to the side, her dull blue eyes seeing nothing. It's like she's not here, stuck somewhere in her head where she's not in a dingy cell. Her cheeks are gaunt and her forearms are as thin as sticks, but Adaar would recognize that face anywhere.

"Guess you're not completely stupid after all." The first guard chuckles. "Fine, I'll get my contact tomorrow. Now, let's test her out before she's gone..." The guard unbuckles his belt.

Blue eyes look pleadingly at her. The girl's lips tremble in fear, but she can't speak out. She's too weak to resist when he spreads her legs open.

The guard stops when he hears something behind him. He whips his head around. "Who the fuck—"

Red eyes glow in the dark, the blood on the side of the Inquisitor's head steaming into the air in a swirl of dark red. She clenches her fists so hard that her nails dig into skin, sending droplets of blood falling down but not staining the ground—they seem to evaporate in mid-air into clouds of sinister burgundy. Adaar's snarl freezes the guards solid. The sounds escaping her throat aren't human.

To them, that must mean one thing.

His mouth falls open in disbelief. "D-Demon..."

* * *

**Alright, here's one of the surprises I'm giving you guys. Since we're so close to chapter ten and I have the "smut every tenth chapter" policy, I'm asking you guys this: What kind of porn do you want now?**


	29. A Fuck In Time

His blood is on fire. Anyone with common sense would want his own life force inside of him, safely pumping throughout his body, but not him. He wants it out now. One stare into the demon's dark crimson eyes sends his blood melting like liquid lava and thickening like molten steel. He tries to reach for his fingers, but all he can do is stand as his muscles spasm and his brain goes absolutely numb.

He watches helplessly as the horned creature steps into the jail cell, which suddenly seems more and more like a cage. He tries to gulp when her footsteps bring her in front of him in two simple steps, the eerily quiet qunari easily towering over him, a full grown man.

A cold, iron-clad hand clasps over his neck, thoroughly circling it as she effortlessly lifts him off the ground and slams him to the iron bars that trap them inside. It rattles with the force, and he suddenly finds himself able to move again. The first thing he feels is the crushing pressure on his throat, and he sputters and coughs uselessly as he makes a futile effort at prying the fingers off. Her skin is hot with unspoken rage, and her eyes are angry yet cold.

She slams him again, this time dissuading him from even trying to save his neck. "How many times?" Her fingers tighten as she speaks, her voice shaking with pure disdain.

"W-What?" He looks at his companion, who's still frozen where he stands. He sees panic and fear, and a little gratefulness that he's not the main recipient of the demon's attention.

"How many time did you fucking _touch_ her?" She doesn't hold back this time, the force of her voice making the man flinch as she digs her palm into his throat. He chokes again, but he knows better than to try and escape.

"Y-You're not a demon..." He takes in a deep breath as she slackens her hold to let him speak.

"Wrong answer."

His blood curdles in his tightening veins and his muscles are being torn from the inside out. His eyes bulge and he tries to call for help, but he can only gurgle incorrigibly as his neck spasms in sync with the rest of his body. It's like very liquid that keeps him alive is spiking and bouncing frantically within him, alternating between snapping into icy shards and and boiling with a heat so cruel that it can only come from that.

He mouths the words, but no sounds leave his paling lips. _Blood magic._

The first drip of blood drips onto the cold floor, followed by another and another. They escape through his nose, his eyes, his ears, everywhere he can think of, pushing out into the open air. He can actually hear his heart thumping wildly in his chest, pumping out the blood that steadily streams outside.

"Answer." Adaar's command is simple.

He flinches under her sight, the glowing red eyes flashing like a judge's ruling the final verdict on the very scum of the Earth. "I-I didn't do it, I swear. That was the first time I was gonna do it! She's just a kid!" His teeth are swimming in blood, blood that splashes down onto Adaar's wrist as he opens his mouth.

Adaar doesn't even consider asking for some sort of confirmation. It doesn't matter, she's going to make him hurt. "What else?"

"W-We took her food sometimes." He thinks of lying to her, but the blood still pulses out of his skin and his feet are still off the ground. How long has she been lifting him? He doesn't want to know. "And then we ate them in front of her. Sometimes we put them just out of reach before we took 'em away. But that was it, I swear! We just called her names and-"

_That was it?_ She's heard enough. "No one messes with her." She growls, inching her face closer to the bloody mess that's his face. He's so close that she can smell the tears that have swirled together with his thick blood, feel his terrified breaths on herself. "No one."

The pulsing within his veins escalates into a full pounding. He can feel his tendons ripping apart inside him, being flooded with red hot blood, pressing down on his bones and joints like his own insides are closing in and turning inside out.

He screams. This time, only a ghost of an agonized croak leaves his throat as everything in his eyes go dark.

Adaar takes her eyes off him for just a second to grasp at the air towards the second guard, whose feet dangle uselessly in the air as he is lifted up by what certainly feels like his very own blood. He can feel them pressing him upwards as if they have a mind of their own—but he knows that's not the case. He flunked the exam he needed to pass to become a templar, but he knows exactly what's going on here.

Only a blood mage of high skill can pull off something like this, a blood mage who has had plenty of practice and people to practice it on.

Then Adaar waits. She waits until the floor is coated with slick, hot blood that sloshes from the guards' hanging forms. She watches as their skin contract and squeeze like they're rags being wrung to dry as they spasm in place, unable to pierce the night air with their calls for mercy. The thick, dark red that spreads throughout the entirety of the floor steams into the air. Every breath she takes is her inhaling power personified, power that she intends to use.

She holds them tighter within her magic's grasp, until she finally drops them down. Their faces are white as snow, only visible through the small patches of skin that's not tainted with their own blood. Their cheeks are hollow and their eyes are open, as if screaming to make up for the silence of their voices. They seem much too small for the armor that their bodies still don, but that's natural—they _did_ have the blood squeezed from their own flesh, and by their own tendons and muscles, to boot.

Only now does Adaar notice the sound of a breath resuming it's pace, light and sudden. A middle aged elf woman stands with her broom in hand, still and quiet—at least, until the qunari takes a step forward and her foot makes a splash as she begins to make her way to her. She drops the broom.

Adaar doesn't care for her, but when she looks at the floor, Sera is nowhere to be found. "Where is she?" Adaar's asks, the red in her eyes finally fading away. The only sounds she can hear are the sounds of blood being parted as she walks and finally ducks under the cell door.

"I don't know." The servant timidly blurts. She'll say everything she needs to say, although the dried bodies on the ground give her that much extra motivation.

"Why didn't you help her?" The judgment is clear in her voice.

The servant instinctively backs off to the wall behind her. "I-I can't. They'll throw me in here too. I've got to feed my son, I can't do that if I'm behind bars."

Adaar clicks her tongue. She has no time to figure out if she's lying or not. "Go."

And she breaks out into a hard sprint, not even pausing before she opens the door that leads to some other room. Adaar jogs through the halls, wondering why exactly the guard barracks are so empty and run down. The wooden floors seem like they're going to fall at any second under her weight, while the paint on the walls are faded and scratched out in some places. The place looks normal, otherwise, but it's not until she leaves that she figures out why.

_Shit,_ is smells horrible. Her nostrils are immediately assaulted by the foul stench of what seems to be a combination of trash and rotting food, which undoubtedly comes from the piles of miscellaneous items spread around. The buildings around her look like they're going to fall over if an even slightly strong gust of wind passes by.

She's in an alienage, and Sera was in an alienage jail. Of course there were just two incompetent guards there and just one servant. Of course the place is falling apart.

Sera is slumped over next to a rickety old bench by a tall tree in the middle of the deserted space. Adaar can't bring herself to care about how that tree is far too large to be from anywhere nearby because she immediately rushes to her aid. The qunari scoops her up in her arms far too easily, it's as is she weighs nothing at all. The dull blonde hair that sits messily on her head is falling out and Adaar can feel the bones under her skin.

That's what she is: a bag of bones.

Adaar cradles the little girl close to her chest, correcting herself. She's not a little girl, she's almost a _teenager_. The small but developing breasts are there when Adaar presses her palm to the elf's chest to check her heartbeat. She must have starved for so long to look this small. The Inquisitor could hold her with one arm and still have room for more. Sera's eyes aren't opening and her breaths are shallow.

The mage can't even fathom how she managed to crawl out in the midst of her rage, but she doesn't have to—she sees one lone inn with the lights still on. The faded wooden sign reads 'inn', obviously. Whoever owns the place must not be very creative. As her steps grow longer, Adaar tells herself that she has more important things to take care of. She'll wonder about everything later, when she has the time.

The inn looks absolutely dingy and old, like everything in the alienage, but it will have to do. Adaar's fingers have no difficulty turning the comparatively tiny doorknob. She lowers her head and makes sure not to bump little Sera's head as she enters the place.

"How much?" Adaar fumbles with her money pouch, absolutely not caring about the innkeeper's blatant staring.

"T-Two sovereigns." He stutters, as two gold coins clatter on his counter. He fetches a key that hangs by the several others on the rack beside him and slides it closer to his customer. "Go up and take a left."

"Bring me food. A lot of them." Adaar doesn't thank him and snatches the key, the walk up there cut short by her brisk pace. She has a little difficulty with the small keys and the equally small keyholes, but when she makes it in, she immediately lets Sera down on the hard bed.

The over sized shirt flies to a nearby chair. Adaar turns Sera's body over as gently as she can, inspecting for sores and cuts or anything else that she might have endured in there. She feels her heart clench at the sight of her protruding ribs and hip bones, and then some more when she sees the dark bruises around the bottom of her fists and around her fingers. A few strange, cylindrical shaped ones line her shoulder, and the side of her face.

She must have gotten it when she tried to reach for food, trapped inside by the iron bars that she didn't have any way to bypass. Adaar can just imagine her reaching out to some half-rotten chunk of vegetable, pushing herself farther and farther, until the exhaustion finally gets to her and she collapses with her hand just inches away from the the only food she's seen in two days.

Soft green lights glow from Adaar's palms. The hands that had taken lives in every way possible, in the most despicable ways, softly glide across the marred skin of the unconscious elf. The soothing magic continues to work as a gigantic hand cups a familiar face that's pasty pale, with lips so light in color that the qunari has to check her breathing so see if she's still living. "How could anyone do this to you?" She asks. She really doesn't know how anyone, for whatever reason, would even dare or have the heart to do this to _her_, of all people.

_What the hell is going on?_

Adaar remembers Sera's story of the qunari who took her to an inn and fed her. If she follows the story, then she'll leave her pouch of coins for her to use, a certainly generous amount, especially by the standards of a poor city elf. But how did she get here and why?

_Where is everyone else?_

_Where is her Sera? _

She looks down at the limp body in her arms. This_ is_ her Sera, but what happened to the young rogue that she holds in her arms every night?

She fucked with time. Again. And now she doesn't have Dorian to bring her back, even if he knew how. Her head snaps upwards at the sound of a timid knock. "Come in."

The innkeeper slowly inches the door open, his hands not quite steady as he holds the tray of food in his hands. The plate of boiled vegetables hardly look very appetizing, but they certainly do look filling. A smaller plate next to it is filled with some sort of mysterious looking meat that seems like it was left a little bit too long on top of a fire. A large glass of water completes the set, but he has to stop shaking if he doesn't want it to crash onto the ground.

"Thank you." Adaar says, giving him an appreciative nod. She stands, and the man gulps as she reaches for her pouch. She drops a few coins into his hand, noticing the pleasantly surprised widening of his eyes. "That should cover for tonight's food and tomorrow's. Bring her the best food that you have."

"O-Of course." He forces a scared smile.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." Adaar reassures, but the blood staining her armor doesn't make her words sound very convincing. "Just take care of her for now. She's been through enough." Her eyes soften at the figure on the bed.

"Okay." He seems in a hurry to leave as he counts the coins in his hand. Adaar doesn't stop him.

It's only when the door closes does she notice a hint of caramel brown, so small that she hasn't noticed it before. Sera's eyes are open, just a bit, and they're looking right at her. The tired baby blues are faint, but unmistakably there. She takes a deep breath, undoubtedly roused by the sweet smell of food. Her stomach growls profusely.

Adaar fetches the tray from the side table, where the innkeeper left it before he exited the room in haste. She fumbles around with the spoon as she cuts a too stiff piece of meat up, scooping it up and nearly dropping it in her haste to bring it to Sera's mouth.

The elf girl's lips part slightly to allow the qunari to feed her, but she takes far too long to chew, and even longer for her to swallow. She almost grimaces as the sliver of brown goes down her throat.

Adaar brings the glass of water to her mouth, mentally kicking herself for not considering that the preteen's mouth must be too dry for her to even swallow or chew comfortably. Small trickles of water escape and trail down to the sides of her cheeks in her hurry to drink, half of it all gone by the time the Inquisitor resumes feeding her again.

A comfortable rhythm of the clinking of the spoon against the plates fills the looming silence in the room.

* * *

**Also what the hell are Sera's eyes even**

**I see screenshots with her eyes blue and then they turn brown?**

**As usual, tell me if you see some typos because I think I may have missed a few. I've received the requests for the sweet sweet smut, which will happen ASAP after whatever is going on here gets sorted out. Look forward to mushy smut and more strap ons. Adaar may not be the one wearing it this time, you catch my meaning?**


	30. Two

**Alright, I'm sorry for taking so long because I've been busy moving for college and I haven't been able to touch my laptop for as often as I'd like. Anyway, this chapter is meant to be somewhat ambiguous, just thought I'd let you know.**

**Also, it contain a non-graphic torture scene which is a bit gory. The graphic scene will have an... Elaboration later on.**

* * *

_Running. Hiding. Scared._

_It's been that way for as long as she can imagine. Running in the darkness of some dank alley is the first memory she has. She didn't even know why she ran until the soles of her feet bruised black and blue. All she knew was that no one is going to help her, at least not for long._

_Fucking Emmald. She has never cursed someone's name so much in her short life. The name sparks so much hate within her little young heart, enough to make her feel full to bursting with her want to scream into the woman's face and tell her to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. But then again, she can't bring herself to say it. The thought of the Fereldan's face is enough to make her fists clench until her fingernails dig into her palms and make them bleed._

_Taking a deep and silent breath, she watches as that haughty merchant closes up shop for the night. She'd be able to get plenty of food with the jewelry he frequently leaves lying about. She wouldn't be able to sell it to anyone because she's far too young to know her fences yet, but she'd leave it at the places where she gets stockpiles of food from. It'll more than make up for the things they've lost._

_Of course, maybe they'd get blamed for finding 'lost' jewelry, but she's too new to stealing to figure it out yet._

* * *

It's a dark night, the kind that Sera usually spends either sleeping like a brick after a few mugs of brew or making Adaar purr deeply into her pillow as the elf eases the stresses of the day away. It's far too quiet to be that kind of night. She normally lets herself bed and be bedded until the tension is gone from her Inquisitor's muscles, until the only exhaustion she feels is the kind that puts her into a restful sleep. The next mornings are always there for her to spend fussing about whether a certain mage remembers to eat enough for someone her size, all to the whispers of those either amazed or appalled at her willingness to open her legs for her. There's a certain looming darkness as the smoke rises into the air from the torch that hangs by the very tall walls around her. It casts shadows around the fortress that the very resourceful Sera is more than capable of taking advantage of.

The thief is almost invisible with the _moon_ hidden behind thick clouds. She wipes the brow from the point of her chin. It's much hotter than the nights of Skyhold usually are and her shoulder still rings with pain from the burn. That, and she has no idea what the fuck is going on.

She hears words. Deep, guttural voices with controlled vowels and rigid paces. She hears similar words from Iron Bull and Adaar during their lunches together. Sometimes the qunari mumbles those words in her sleep. It's Qunlat, language of the qunari.

Sera feels the thick walls pressed against her back and she sees the rack of very large weapons not too far away from her position, but she refuses to acknowledge that she's in an actual fortress that's under the Qun. Or maybe they're Tal Vashoth, she doesn't know.

Only her years of staying hidden like a starving rat waiting for crumbs of cheese to fall it's way keeps her from outright panicking and exposing herself to whoever it is out there. It takes that and more for her to stay still when a usually playful and alluring voice reaches her ears, definitely more timid and lighter than it usually is, but undeniably the same.

The Red Jenny can't tell what the owner of the voice is saying, but it sounds pleading, definitely desperate with a large dash of fear and denial. She dares herself to peek around the corner.

Adaar isn't the mountain of muscle she is now. She looks shorter, thinner, and definitely much more scared than she is now. Her horns definitely look a fair bit smaller. Incisions mark the expanse of her visible skin, probably ones made by the small bloody knife on the table. They look methodical, strangely, just like they're positioned to both hurt her and her muscles enough to hamper her strength and all of her speculative escape attempts. Her teeth are red, and so is the small line of spittle that runs down her chin.

She's absolutely unmarked. Her body and face are left devoid of any evidence of abuse, completely clean aside from the fresh wounds. She's not the Inquisitor. She's just some poor teenager who's pulling on the cuffs clasped on her wrists, frantically begging the larger, bulkier qunari for release in a language Sera doesn't speak.

There is one word she recognizes, though. The biggest of the warriors comes forward and silences her with his mere hulking presence. "Saarebas." She hears it in his sentence, and she clearly sees how Adaar's gray skin whitens to a ghostly pale at the one word.

She screams and pulls at the chains as the warrior unflinchingly turns his back to her and begins scanning for something on the nearby table, his hand dragging across sturdy wood until it rests on a sharp pair of tongs. Sera holds her breath. She's got to be dreaming. Maybe Adaar fucked up with her Anchor's flare, but she's definitely having nothing but a bad dream that will just go away. Fade or no Fade, a dream is just a dream.

Unspeakable fear lights up in Adaar's innocent green eyes as the warrior barks an order to the others. One of them grab her horns like they're the reins of a wild beast while another pries her mouth open, disregarding how hard she tries to shake her head free as she shouts through his fingers. The Arvaraad frowns deeply when the few seconds his fingers spends in her mouth turns out ineffective. He can't bring her tongue out when the teenager is screaming in a way that he knows doesn't befit someone of the Qun. Without blinking even a little bit, he slices the tongs across her face in a supremely hard slash that leaves a horizontal gash across her face.

Sera knows that wound. It's the one that runs from the near bottom of her right cheek to the top of her left. She often kisses the spot when Adaar wakes up and tells her she'll try and make the war room meetings quick so she can see her for lunch. The qunari had often flinched when she touched the spot during the early days of their relationship, which is why she used to avoid staring at it for too long.

That can mean only one thing- she's seeing the past. She's watching the woman who whispers sweet nothings into her ears at night being beaten into submission every time she rebels and refuses to give them her tongue. The displeasure on the Arvaraad's face splits into a full out rage the more she resists. His hand grows used to swinging at her bloodied face and the decorative gilds of his sword's sheath cut into her face.

Sera's chest beats wildly as her sweaty palms linger on her bow. The blood that previously trickled steadily to the ground has started to somewhat dry, but it still hurts to reach for the arrows in her quiver. The weight on her back suggests that she doesn't have enough to take a horde of rampaging qunari warriors in their own damn fortress, and that's considering that she even manages to hit them all in her state.

She could get caught in close quarters combat. It's not like she can't land a punch, but she's in no condition for it. Her head is beginning to feel light already. She looks down at the small puddle of blood at her feet. She can't let her suffer like this, but Adaar obviously manages to survive in the future, and taking on a fortress of qunari is a suicide mission.

She bites her lip hard. She can't even bear to look when the once defiant grunts of pain make way to choked sobs of pain. What are they doing to her?

Sera takes a peek. Adaar's left eye is swollen shut and the cut on her eyelid bleeds freely into it. The Arvaraad demands roughly with his gruff voice, him and the rest of his men seeming far too detached from the beaten girl lying on her knees.

Adaar's wrists are raw and bleeding. Sera knows them too, the deep scars that she first saw when they had the first of their intimate nights. The gray skin visible from where she stands is is almost purple and red. Sera knows how it feels to have her hands bound with irons that seem to tighten the more she pulls on them.

The Arvaraad requests something from one of the other qunari, who dutifully fetches a small dagger from the table.

_No._

The qunari holds her in place as the Arvaraad says his threats, his face so painfully close to hers. He says something into her ear, and Adaar's entire body tenses. There's that word again. "Saarebas."

She thrashes in her chains again, the irons clinking madly as she screams out, the flames alight in her palms. She has to get away. They heat up her bindings with fire, but how can a new mage perform such an escape? The embers are unfocused, flaring hotter with pure desperation. She screams in shock as she feels her skin sizzle and cook. She pulls harder and the cuffs dig into her skin again, each tug accompanied by the sickening hiss of her flesh being burned by the hellishly hot irons.

He drags the dagger across her chest, disregarding her entire effort. Warm blood spills down and drops to the ground in thick splotches and the mage doesn't resist. Only now does Sera see why. She was too busy cowering in a corner to notice that both Adaar's eyes have been beaten shut. Fresh, fearful tears stream from the corners of her eyes like a cold autumn rain.

It's not the tears of someone who's afraid of hurt, but instead the tears of a young woman whose life has been stripped away. Whatever he said to her, it did it. She doesn't seem fight back anymore when the Arvaraad tugs her tongue out and holds the dagger over it.

She's afraid. So, very afraid. Sera can see that, but it's all fake. Everything in the Fade is fake, isn't it? That's what the mages in the Circle tell themselves to survive their Harrowings, right? That's what Hawke said on the way here.

Yes, that must've been what happened. Adaar must have fucked something up when she fucking missed and hit her with that green flare of hers.

She'll just sit and hide. Nothing is real and she can't change anything. She just stands and tries to block the noise out, cursing mentally as she holds her bow idly in her sweaty hands. Sera bites her own lip to the point of bleeding when Adaar's screams muffle out but shake as her voice grows hoarse. It sounds strange, almost muffled. Overcome by curiosity, Sera dares herself to peek around the corner.

The young qunari's eyes frantically dart around as the dagger presses against the length of her tongue. The muscle doesn't even move in fear of it's fate. A pang of guilt cuts through Sera's chest as she sees the forest green pupils look around for anything that can save her, anything at all.

It's as if she's waiting for not just any kind of help, but her help. Sera knows how irrational it sounds, but she can't brush it off. Her vision begins to swim in a lazy tilt that sends her holding on tighter to the wall. Has she lost that much blood?

She swipes a finger against her forearm and it comes up thick with red.

She takes another peek around the corner, paralyzed by indecision. Fade or no Fade, her finger itches. Her reflexes tell her to save her lover, sweep in and bring terror to all who oppose her, even if it's a death wish.

No. It's the Fade, it's trying to trick her. She stands her ground. She won't give in.

She watches quietly as the Arvaraad's knife slices down and the bone chilling screams die out. Adaar's face contorts in pain, but she can't cry out. Blood leaks from her mouth in torrents of red, her tongue no longer inside but instead held in the Arvaraad's fingers. Her wordless scream is much louder in Sera's head than the ones she can't hear anymore.

Sera wants to vomit. She perseveres, even as the qunari helplessly flails around while the horns that she holds onto are being sawn off right from the base. It's not until then that Sera realizes something is wrong. Present day Adaar's horns are still there, and so is her tongue.

She's not seeing the past.

And now the corners of her lips are being pierced by a needle and a thread, her jaw clamped shut by the strong hands that keep her still. Frightened tears spill from her reddened eyes as her struggles slowly fade out into nothing. She knows she's done for. She lets him sew her mouth shut, submitting all of her. It's too late for her now. One after another, the threads close her up for good. It still hurts, the rough stabs of the needle.

She closes her eyes in resignation, the tiniest of her last sobs shaking her body as the edges of her mouth turn raw and red from the pulling of the thread. The helmet fits perfectly around her head. It makes sense. After all, it was made for Saarebas. Her.

Only a slap thrown with the strength of it's owner's entire weight snaps Sera out. "You're not seeing the bloody past, you shit!"

Sera's heart catches in her throat. For a moment there, she thought she got caught, but who's standing in front of her makes absolutely no sense at all.

It's herself. Her skin cracks with bits of glowing red within and that same sinister red has partially glowed through the warm caramel of her eyes, but it's surely her. It's obvious even with the gaunt cheeks and the armor that's too big for her body, not to mention the small spikes of red lyrium that have grown and pierced through the leather on the back of her armor.

The copy of her grabs her shoulders, eyes boring into hers with fury that almost can't come from someone who's obviously dying or dead. "What the fuck did you just do?"

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_What do you think just happened? Let me know in the reviews!_

_I'm so sorry if this chapter was lacking. I'm too impatient to take my time because I'm already late as it is, so... Yeah. Also, obligatory smut every 10 chapters, right? Since it would be way messed up if Adaar and Sera started boinking in the Fade, I'll have to ask you to be patient. For the wait, I'll give you all both super fluffy and feely shit and really raunchy ones. ;)_


	31. Change

**So, guys... Moving to Vancouver has been taking it's sweet toll on me. I've been jet lagged and tired and stuff, so I'm sorry for taking so long. **

**I realize that some of you are going to be like "WTF" at today's chapter, but I assure you that nothing I write is black and white. I won't ruin it, I promise.**

**EDIT: The document glitches when I tried to update it yesterday, so I had to wait to get to a computer instead of my ****iPad. Sorry. **

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The doppelganger takes a moment to assess the situation, but Sera reckons that she doesn't need to because her copy doesn't seem to even think before she begins shooting out. She never thought she'd be unhappy with how fast she can dish out her arrows until she's too late to stop herself from doing it.

The arrow hits the Arvaraad right where it counts, slicing the front of his jugular and embedding itself into the eye of a shorter qunari nearby. It's the kind of shot she would brag about to no end, but all she's doing is frantically using up her last arrows to take out the more than surprised warriors who spend their last moments gaping as they're being pierced like pincushions.

There weren't many to begin with, and now they're all dead. One Sera is already dangerous when silent and in the dark, and two of them can be a deadly combination.

The doppelganger rushes towards Adaar after the last of the qunari ceases his breathing. Her bow clatters to the side. The blood will seep into the wood and it will be impossible to remove, but she doesn't seem to care. Her hands almost can't bear to touch her bloodied and beaten face. "I'm sorry." She throws her arms around her shoulders. Adaar is younger and smaller and not nearly as powerful, but she still considers the mage hers. "I didn't get here fast enough."

She did kiss her that time in Redcliffe, right before she died and went here, to the Fade. That was the only time she ever saw her cry.

Adaar begins to morph before her very eyes. Her face grows sharper and what remains of her horns elongate and widen. Her revealing armor somehow changes to fit her widening shoulders and larger breasts, and the chains around her wrists snap from their restraints mounted on the wall, similarly changing as if my magic. They turn a shade of yellow that's almost bronze and the chains are denser yet shorter, almost like handcuffs. Out of thin air, a dark and tattered cape is draped around her shoulders as muscles begin to bulk and define.

The wounds heal, but the scars remain, deeper and harsher than Sera remembers. Adaar is about as large as she knows her to be, now, although it's a shame she can't see her brilliant green eyes. They're obscured by the mask she wears, the type all Saarebas have. Her shoulders are weighed down by an invisible weight, even though the elf does everything she can to keep her up.

"She changed." The stinging tears behind her eyes break free. Sera didn't even know her copy was holding them back until the dam breaks and they fall like the rain. "She changed to resemble the way you remember her." When Sera is too stunned to response, she just leans her forehead on the not-quite Saarebas' shoulder. "I was watching through the rift thing, the big one. She hit you with that green thing she's got. That's how you got here."

"You're no demon." Sera finally realizes, and the reality of what happened, what she let happened, hits her like a boulder. "I heard the stories. If you were a demon, I'd be somewhere good and you'll try and give me what I want. This isn't good."

"This can't be the right timeline." Her copy tightens her arms around Adaar. "This isn't supposed to happen."

"No shit," Sera can't look at her mage like this. She did this. "I've got to change things. What the hell am I supposed to do?" She asks to herself, not the least surprised when tears begin to prick in her eyes. "Pissballs, ugh!" She grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls, afraid to ask her next question. "Don't tell me I friggin' changed the future."

"No, no, no," The copy doesn't leave Adaar's side, not even when she sees herself begin to pace frantically around. "Look, shit, just calm down. What's the last thing you saw before you got here?"

Sera still doesn't look at the deathly silent qunari. "Her."

"Then you must've, I don't know, zeroed in on her or something." She bites her lip. "Look, just do it again. There's another timeline where you save her. You and me and her." She, of course, refers to the now mute qunari with them.

"What the hell are you talking about? You're not making any shitting sense!"

"Shut up and listen, you little rothead!" The lyrium infested elf snaps. "I've seen some fucked up shit in this place. I've seen a world without the big Warden and one where it was Hawke who died and not her sister." Her face darkens even more than it already is. "You've got no idea what I've been doing all this time. But you know what I don't want to ever see?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "A world where my Buckles is abandoned by myself."

The words cut so deep she winces. "I-I didn't know! I thought-"

"I don't fucking care." She enunciates the words slowly. "Just fix it."

"How?" Her breath begins to hitch.

"I don't know."

Her cheeks wet with tears that don't stop streaming, she slowly steps forward to Adaar's slumped form. She knew the mage was big, but she has never felt so small in front of her before. Her doppelganger moves away just in time for her to reach the woman she let this happen to. Like so many times before, she tilts down her chin and closes the gap between them. The strains herself to see through the darkness of the mask until she sees the dead, distant green that's Adaar's eyes. She rakes in a sob as she shakes her shoulders roughly. "Wake up." Her voice is weak. No response. "Wake up!" She shakes her again, but still receives no response, even when tears that aren't her own stain her bloody cheeks. The pink drops streak down her face. "This wasn't supposed to happen..."

Then she feels it. Sera finds it hard to know what it exactly is, but it's like a rusted door in the back of her mind peeking open for the first time. It's centered deep inside her, and the more she looks into it, the wider it opens, almost like a catalyst for something. Admittedly, she has no idea what she's doing, but she pulls is open again and again.

Her skin burns in swirling and branching trails that seep inside like melting iron, hot like arcane fire and colder than the bite of an icy tundra. Her doppelganger's eyes are alarmed but her mouth stays shut. In turn, Sera doesn't stop prying whatever's inside her open. Soon, her eyes start pulsing like a bad headache and her vision begins to whiten. The only thing she can see is Adaar's stagnant pupils, and then she's drawn inside.

She sees everything in one short, intense flash. Ruins of the fort stand in pieces. Ash billowing in the morning air. Leather coat tight around her shoulders. She can't let them see the marks on her body. Too late. The door is opening.

She sees all the screaming faces like one twisted montage of contorted muscles and bones, all silent terror as they're being squeezed and torn from the inside out with their own blood. She witnesses rivulets of sweat trail down her face in the summer as the cloak Is held tight around her. She doesn't want anyone to see them, she doesn't want herself to see them.

No charming smiles and warm hugs. Her eyes are always tense and her lips are constantly fixed in a vicious scowl. She has to keep everyone away so no one can hurt her again.

Finally, Sera admits it. Adaar is truly frightening. Perhaps it's because now she sees what she is when she's not her caring lover, but it's probably because she's seeing every time she kills with that enraged lust for blood, charging relentlessly without any regard for what happens to her. She sees that time Adaar blew up a bridge but left out the fact that she was under it at the time, all the times the qunari limped back to her tent and snapped at Katoh when she tried to follow, every time she cries out with a strip of cloth in her mouth when she pulls out a lodged dagger or arrow.

She sees the wounds increase in amount and eventually harden into the scars her hands know so well. A little girl grabs her wrist and she recoils, throwing her off. She cries on the ground and she flees like a monster from a children's storybook, with villagers at her back, throwing stones at her until one hits her face. She takes one look at them and burns every one of them who has stones in hand.

She burns a protective mother and a hard working father, a troubled sister and a pair of newlyweds. In the end, she just leaves with the scent of char in the air and the sound of weeping and screaming left in her wake.

Sera remembers that the first task she placed upon herself when they moved to Skyhold was to read about the Qun. She may not remember the quote word for word, but she gets the gist. _"Outsiders view the Qun as unforgiving and oppressing, but those who live under it do not share that viewpoint, except for the Saarebas. They are required to admit submission to their Arvaraad before they are bound. Failure to do so will result in various torture methods being used until they submit."_

The more broken Adaar's face and body gets, the more it resembles her in present day, the more Sera fails to hold back her choking sobs. She can't remember the last time she cried like this, but that's probably just because she's never cried like this ever.

And she just let her suffer. She know Adaar will forgive her, but the excusing herself because she thought it was all a dream doesn't give her any comfort. She feels like shit, and it's probably because she is shit. The sight of her lover being bruised and beaten into surrender only led her to hide like a rat.

Her lover who was or is a blood mage and killed dozens of people who she didn't need to. She watches it all unfold like she's seeing it from Adaar's eyes, watches an endless stream of people spasm and sputter to death. Some of them were even simple farmers with only pitchforks or sickles to wield, people who only wanted to protect their family and comrades from the rampaging qunari.

An hour ago, Sera would have defended her without a second thought. Now she understands why Shok and Katoh reach for her when Adaar goes in for an unannounced hug, why Taashe's sword arm twitches whenever she sees the mage with her arm around her, and why Kaariss went through such an elaborate process to warn her.

They must look at her like she's an unsuspecting child walking into a bear's cave.

She should leave her there to rot and save all those people who bled by her hand. Some or most of them could be rival mercenaries or shits who deserved it, but Sera knows fear well. It's a good friend of hers and she saw it in all the eyes of those the Inquisitor slaughtered, which is why the Red Jenny is alarmed when she finds herself unable to stop.

She has no fear and she has no intention of running away, but that lack of fear at the knowledge that she's been sharing a bed with a blood mage is what scares her.

What has Adaar done to her?

Suddenly, the visions stop. Her eyesight stops blurring and she hears shuffling around her. She opens her eyes. Adaar is back to her younger self, frightened eyes beaten shut and intact horns perfectly fine. She hears a deep voice yell out behind her, and then her blood freezes. She did it. She leaps back and draws her bow, but her heart stops when she realizes her position.

She's with Adaar against the wall, and there's a half circle of qunari in front of her. Her bow is ready, but a cornered archer is never a good thing. When the Arvaraad swings down his massive sword on her while the others unsheathe their respective weapons, she's sure she's going to die.

Then the air seems to freeze around her. The sword cuts through it, not very quick at first and then slowing down to the point that she can feel the wind stop blowing. She slowly sidesteps and avoids the sword by a wide margin, dodging right under his arm. Strangely, something tickles her shoulders like a wisp of wind in a cold night and her skin begins to steam like boiled water.

Even more oddly, it doesn't hurt at all.

She needs to make this quick. If there are any reinforcements, she's done for. The smell of alchemy washes over her and the oily substance on her skin. She tosses away the jar that crashes into pieces on the ground.

She has no idea what's going on, why the time is bending around her and slowing down whilst giving ripples like a lake on a rainy day. Her arrows fly as fast as they usually do, cutting into flesh before the warriors even know what hit them. It's not quite a feat, given that they're literally standing still as she picks them out. They stand back as the flames lick her skin and blare to life, the split moment of hesitation giving Sera all the time she needs to plant her arrows in them.

They're down before the fire run out, and by the time that happens, the thief is already by Adaar's side. She almost drops her poultice in her rush to use it on the hurt qunari, whose head snaps up at the touch of her hand. "Shh, it's okay." Sera breathes, brushing away bloodies strands of hair from the qunari's face.

Adaar instinctively turns her head away, her chest heaving in her momentary blindness. She gasps a question, or at least Sera thinks it is, in Qunlat.

Sera nearly slaps herself in the face. Of course she can't understand what she's saying. "I'm sorry it took so long, Buckles." She says it anyway. She'll apologize again when she sees present Adaar again, but she has to say it now. The mage looks around, confused at the scent of coppery blood in the night wind.

"No." Sera jolts at the sound of herself behind her. The doppelganger holds the Saarebas Adaar's two fingers in her hand, guiding her forward. Her hold tightens considerably at the sight before her. "What did you do?"

"I bloody saved her, that's what." Sera doesn't look at her. She touches the gray skin of her collarbone, wet with a combination of blood and sweat. "Like I should've done before."

A cold draft passes by her back. Without looking back, she can feel the presence behind her back. "Spirits come and go, shaping themselves and changing with all that changes. The living are different. They go and mold like clay-"

Sera never thought she'd be happy to hear that voice. "You!" She turns around with the most relieved grin.

Cole holds out his hand. "Please come. You've been here for too long. The living don't live long in the place of spirits. You have changed."

She doesn't really listen to the last thing he says. There are enough questions in her head to fill Adaar's bedroom. "I can't leave her."

"Shit, this is all wrong." The doppelganger curses, slapping her hands to her face and dragging it down. "Tits, you're supposed to show up and almost die! Then she'll use blood magic to kill everyone!"

"We have to go now." Cole says, his normally calm voice laced with urgency as he takes steps towards her. "It's dangerous in here for the living. I don't know what will happen to you."

"You're not supposed to turn into... This." The copy gestures towards all of her.

Sera looks back and forth between the two. "What the fuck are both of you saying?"

Her other self is just about to open her mouth before heavy footsteps near the vicinity and the door behind them bangs loudly. Sounds of yelled orders in Qunlat ring in the air.

"They're coming." The doppelganger scowls. "I'll find you later. Go, now. I can still keep the time thingy working."

"I'm not leaving her." Sera stubbornly refuses, gritting her teeth.

"You're not." The doppelganger says, her hand stiff around the Saarebas' fingers. "We're here. I'm you."

Sera feels Cole's clammy fingers slide around her wrists. He tugs on it gently. "We have to go." Something alerts him when he looks into her eyes, but she doesn't tell her what. "Now. You're starting to change again."

"But-"

He pulls her in before she can protest, and the world around her distorts, shimmers, and zips away like a tunnel. She feels like she's being jumbled around on the inside and then tossed upside down and shaken around by Iron Bull for good measure. Before she knows it, she dashes through a landscape of green skies and rocky lands too quickly for her to register anything but the Rift they're heading towards.

She closes her eyes and a wild gust of wind blows from every direction, her hair flying to her face at the force.

And then she realizes something is strange. Her hair isn't that long, not by a long shot, but she doesn't have time to contemplate it. Suddenly, she's standing on a pile of stone and rubble, Cole sighing in relief. Soldiers clamor around them, wounded and sweating from the desert heat.

From the bottom of the rubble pile, Adaar scrambles to climb to the top. She has a crutch and a bandage over her left eye. As expected, she stumbles and recoils in pain as she forces herself to step over rocks and pieces of wood on her way up. Sera's stomach drops. If the way she winces with every step is any indication, then she must have a few wounds under her clothes as well.

What surprises her is that she takes a step back before Adaar can reach her. Despite seeing how bloodshot the qunari's visible eye is and how much the pain contorts her face as she limps towards her like a wounded dog, she can't deny the all too recognizable racing in her chest.

Fear. She's afraid of her for the first time ever.

Adaar grabs her shoulder, then her face, so gently like she's going to break into pieces at the slightest force. Her one visible eye tries to blink away the tears that threaten to spill from her reddened and puffy eyes. "You're okay." Her voice is off. She's been crying. "You..." She looks down at all of her, her brow crinkling although she doesn't seem the least bit put off. "What happened to you?"

"Long story." She coldly replies. Every instinct in her body tells her to push the mage off of her. She might end up like one of those people.

Adaar looks dumbfounded. Then it finally dawns to her. "Someone, get a mirror."

Sera frowns, rolling her shoulders to get the qunari's hands off of her. She looks down at her arms and gasps in shock. Her creamy skin is tanned to the light brown of a tree in summer and patterns of intertwining vines run through the length of her biceps and forearms in an almost shimmering golden hue.

"You were gone for three days." Adaar sounds like she hasn't breathed for the length of those days.

"Bullshit." She hotly denies. "I was there for six, at most."

Just in time, a soldier comes running with a small mirror in hand that he holds up in front of her, mindful that the Inquisitor isn't able to do that in her current condition.

Her straight hair has grown, somehow. It reaches just to the middle of her shoulders, although her bangs are as short as they've always been. Her eyes are no longer the warm caramel brown that Adaar has found comforting beyond words to look into, but a striking blue that almost can't be natural. However, what sends a shiver of horror down her spine is the intricate golden vines on her skin, running down her nose and branching out to her cheeks, a small bit poking from the base of her bottom lip to her chin.

_Vallaslin_.

She slaps the mirror away. It crashes to the ground below, to the silent stares of everyone watching.

"Sera-" Adaar limps forward, reaching out her hand.

She knows that hand. The qunari raises it up and bodies rise up to follow and twist and contort. Without a single thought, Sera outstretches both her arms to keep her away, but she doesn't expect what happens next.

A burst of ice sprays from her hand, blasting Adaar away from her and sending her tumbling down below. The soldiers hesitate between staying and defending their Inquisitor, who now lies with a rapidly expanding stain of red on her shirt, no doubt having ripped her stitches. Her crutch clatters uselessly to the ground, the only sound left in the desert dunes. The pain shown in Adaar's face isn't the hurting of a woman who's bleeding and limping, but the hurting a woman who's had the air she needs to live taken away.

Sera feels the icy cold in the palms of her hands and she sees the bits of ice on Adaar's clothes and face, but she can't believe it.

It can't be.

She screams.

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**Yeah, I hope this was worth the wait. Also, for this arc, I need to ask you guys a question. Warden/Alistair or Warden/Leliana? I know Insaid the Warden's the queen, but nothing is ever straightforward.**

**How do you feel about this chapter? Tell me your thoughts because :P**


	32. A Repeat Performance

**ONCE AGAIN, SERA DID NOT TURN INTO A MAGE. REPEAT AFTER ME.**

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What was she thinking, trying to lock herself in a tent? Tents don't have locks. This is Adaar's tent, too, and her stuff is scattered everywhere. The mattress is messy, a clear evidence that she's been having nightmares. But wait, it wasn't like that when they left this evening. The qunari had a very restful sleep last night, she knows because she was curled up in her arms all night.

Before she can register anything, heavy and limping footsteps draw closer. The ragged breaths are like scraping nails to Sera's ears. Of course it's Adaar. She heard the Inquisitor chasing after her, yelling at everyone to stay away with that voice that makes her sound just like a lyrium addict having the last of their dose taken away.

But she just kept running because that's what thieves do. Running is what she's always done and it's what's always kept her alive.

"Sera, please let me in." Adaar's voice is close, now, right on the other side of the tent flap. She sounds like she's going to cry.

But that doesn't change anything. "Herah, please go away."

Herah. Not Buckles. "Please, Sera, I'm sorry."

She knows she is, but nothing makes sense. Not Adaar, not even herself. "Don't."

The qunari falls silent for the longest time, only the sound of her hard breaths indicating that she's still there. Sera hears Solas say something from outside, but Adaar's answer is clear enough. "No, I'm not leaving her! She needs me." _I need her. _

Sera knows Adaar won't enter until she says yes. She knows the qunari too well. She can do this. Then she hears something she's never heard before. The giant of a woman sniffles so close to her ear. Sera gulps. Adaar is right behind her and all she needs to do is push that tent flap open so she can see her face again, fall into those arms again. The sniffle quickly breaks off into a full on sob that reeks of regret, desperation, and confusion rolled into one miserable snivel.

She's a terrible person. She just made her lover cry.

"I-I'm really sorry, Sera. I swear I didn't hit you with it on purpose." Adaar pathetically whimpers, her voice racked with her own weeping. "You've been gone for three days, love. I miss you so much. I swear I'll do everything I can to fix whatever happened."

"Don't cry." Sera breathes, her breath unnaturally cold one second and hot the next. "Please don't, Herah."

"Then let me see if you're okay." The desperation in her words is the kind no one has ever heard her speak. Nevertheless, she still waits outside. "I just want to see if you're fine. I know I must have hurt you-"

"The flap opens. "No shit." She snaps at first, but then she can't anymore. Sweat drips from the tip of Adaar's chin and her eyes are hazy like fog. Her lips are pale like a corpse's and the stain on her side drips with fresh blood that steadily falls to the ground below. She doesn't even make an effort to block the flow or heal herself.

"You tore your stitches." Sera's observation is spoken out loud, and if she knew the qunari, she won't let anyone else touch her skin but the elf. She curses herself for even considering this, because she's always seen blood mages as monsters and she should continue seeing them that way, but she doesn't have the heart to leave her like this.

What's going on with her?

Sera shakes it away when she feels things that she shouldn't be able to feel, ever. She feels warm moisture drop on her skin like she's the ground below their feet, and she tastes fresh blood in her mouth like she's the dirt that absorbs the liquid falling from Adaar's shirt. It must be whatever that stupid Anchor did to her. "Get in." She doesn't look into Adaar's obscenely hopeful eyes. She shouldn't look like a lost puppy.

"Adaar doesn't need another word. The mage immediately puts her gigantic hands on Sera's shoulder, bending down to catch her eyes. "Are you hurt?"

Sera brings the hands down from her shoulders roughly. "No, you... Fuck, you're the one that's hurt!" The mattress slides a bit to the side and a wooden cup of water rises into the air, somehow. She did that, she knows she did. Fucking Anchor.

Adaar doesn't. "What was that?"

"Shut up and get down there." Sera harshly says, reaching for the medicine bag under the table. She plops it down and immediately starts looking. "Don't you fucking dare move."

"Adaar doesn't complain. By the time the thief is done fetching the towel and the cup that was still spinning around aimlessly in the air, the qunari has already rested herself on the ground and the buttons of her shirt are open. Although she's quieted down, Sera can still feel her concerned eyes on her changed form, and for an obvious reason.

"What the hell happened to me in there?" Sera wonders out loud, as she seats herself beside her. Her hands still quiver in her panic and her voice breaks like a torn piece of paper.

"Adaar can't bear to answer her. "I... I don't know. I accidentally hit you with the Anchor. I was trying to hit the dragon, I had no idea what was going to happen but it was going to get to you all." She stammers aimlessly, fresh tears still spilling from her eyes. "He was about to get to you."

"There's a way to fix it, right?" Sera inspects the wound, all while trying to ignore the very much out of character sobs that can't be coming from the Inquisitor, but is. The wound is torn further than it originally was, no doubt when Adaar fell when she blasted her with whatever that was and limped back here to chase after her. It doesn't take a lot for her to tell that it must have hurt a fucking lot.

"I've yelled at everyone outside to call everyone they can. We'll find something, I promise." Adaar tries to put on a strong face, but that's not something very easy when she is wincing at a wet cloth that's being dabbed over her wound to clean up the blood. "I... I don't know if this will make you feel better, but I don't think you turned into a mage."

If it were anyone else, Sera would have jabbed the torn flesh with her fingers. "How do you know, huh? I've never heard of this shit happening to anyone!"

"Well, I've never heard of mages levitating objects or automatically getting _vallaslin_ either, if that's even what it is." Adaar shrinks at the archer's outburst. "I used to have these things I'd do when I couldn't control my powers back then. They might work for you too."

"So I'm not some fucking mage," The venom in the word makes Adaar grimace. "But you're giving me mage exercises?!" The wound is clean and Sera fetches the thread and needle. The white string crackles with electricity at her touch, and she pulls back her fingers with a hiss. "Piss!" The empty cup launches into the air and falls back down. The chair by the table falls over.

"With a tinge of regret, Sera leaves the thread where it is. "I'll get someone else to stitch you up." She tries to stand, but large fingers wrap around her wrist.

"No, don't. I just want you to do it."

"Fucking look at me, Herah." Sera pries the fingers away hurriedly. "I exploded you with whatever the shit that was, and now I'm going off like one of those bombs you plant around. I could do it again, and I wouldn't know how to stop it! Neither do you!" She jabs a finger into Adaar's chest. "Think about that for one damn second."

"But Sera-"

"I know everything!" She interrupts her, and begins to pace around the tent. "I know what happened to you in there. I know what you did to all of those qunari and everyone else who looked at you wrong and fuck, what were you thinking!? You were one of those pissing mages!" The very foundation of the tent begins to shake as she clenches her fists and grits her teeth.

"I… I'm sorry." Adaar begins to sob again and reaches out a hand.

"Sera swats it away. "I bet 'sorry' is real good to every one of them who's dead."

"I know." She breathes harshly. "I'll never undo everything I did. I know I destroyed them and their friends and family and everyone who loved them, and there's not a day when I don't think about them all. I see them in my nightmares, Sera, right up there with the Arvaraad. I know I deserve to be a Saarebas." She gulps when she says this. "I've been doing every single thing I can to prevent this from happening to anyone ever again."

The desk flips and lands, the chair is thrown to the other side of the tent. Sera simply looks down at her with conflicted eyes that can't decide between hatred, disappointment, or everything else in between.

"And it's not just because of you, Sera. Everything I do is for you, but this is also for everyone who suffered under my magic." Adaar looks at her rough, calloused hands. They're the hands of a killer, and the hands that rock her lover to sleep in cold nights. Two conflicting natures, but ones that can't exist without the other. "If you saw everything, somehow, then you know what happened to make me want to do this."

She can see it, plain as day. "When the Conclave exploded, Cassandra took you in. You woke up and found out Solas was poking around your body and you tried to kill her." She remembers watching Adaar lunge despite the chains around her, just like a rabid dog. Her eyes glow with that same red that signals her massacres, but not that time. "She did that Seeker thing. I saw you scream like your blood was on fire. She did it again and again, and she wanted to kill you right there, but Leliana stopped her."

"Do you remember what she said?"

The elf nods. "And then Cassandra stopped."

"That was the first time I've had someone change their mind about me." Adaar's voice lowers in volume considerably. It softens and she smiles so slightly that Sera has to squint to notice it. "I knew I could leave it behind, then, but you made me do it for real. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you."

She remembers that day so long ago. The panic in Adaar's eyes and the quivering of her lips is still clear in her mind. "You tried to. I stopped you, remember?" Yes, she was so sure it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Adaar is scared to ask her next question. She knows she wouldn't be able to handle it if she said yes. "Do you hate me?"

Sera takes one look at Adaar's desperate green eyes and the still unclosed wound on her side. "I should. You were no different from every one of those shitbags." _Were, not are_. She noticed her slip up too late.

The qunari swallows. "But do you?" Her words are laced with fear, but she has to know.

"I don't know." She says, but it sounds more like a question. The tent stops rattling and the everything stops moving, but her mind is still not at ease. The Red Jenny should put an arrow in her for everything she's done, but for the first time, she doesn't let her bow rule. No, Adaar has never done what she did before in her company. Sera considers herself good judge of character, and her gut tells her it's okay, but is it, really? "Back during Verchiel, you were about to do something to him if I didn't stop you. You were going to do it, weren't you?"

Adaar doesn't give herself the luxury of looking down. "Yes, I was."

"That was the only time, right?" She doesn't know what she's saying. Blood magic is supposed to be inexcusable. "You hated him because he hurt me. That's why, yeah?"

The blood mage nods and hangs her head.

"Then no, I don't hate you."

"Then thank you." Adaar lets her head fall to the pillow. On her face is a blissful smile that contrasts the drying tears on her cheeks. "Because I love you."

* * *

**Phew. Alright, some of you may be wondering why Sera isn't more pissed, but the thing is, she really is super pissed. I just thought it would be a major asshole thing to yell at your girlfriend when she's crying and has a hole in her sexy tummy. All right, so… it's been 10 chapters without any real porn here, but wouldn't it be out of place if I put in porn when they're both still emotionally unstable? **

**Or maybe you want some emotionally unstable comfort smut before the super sexy smut that will happen once they're happier?**


	33. Variables

**Alright, I get that the last few chapters have been a mindfuck, but I think I made it too much of a mindfuck. Some people complained about it being too confusing, so I have a question:**

**Should I edit it to make it less confusing? I can do so pretty easily and it will probably help some of you actually understand what is going on. If you don't get it, by the way, Sera got hit by an anchor, did NOT TURN INTO A DALISH MAGE, and magics ensue.**

**Also, I'm surprised no one made a Frozen joke. Ok? Ok.**

* * *

"You really do?" It's the first question that pops into Sera's head. Adaar's arms are still gentle around her, and the long breaths against the elf's collarbone calms her heart instead of setting it on fire.

Everything is always like it was before, isn't it? It shouldn't be, but it is.

"Of course I do." Adaar's voice holds no deceit. The thief has become adept at seeing lies in her career, and she senses none.

"Okay." And she doesn't even doubt her answer, like a young and naive maiden being wooed by a rich and sharp faced noble. The tips of her hair begin to rise into the air and a cooling wind drafts through the tent.

She can't bring herself to say she loves her back, though.

"There." Adaar rubs her back in calming strokes. "Close your eyes."

Sera doesn't understand. "Why?"

"It's an old thing I used to do to stop my out of control magic from burning everything down." She quickly adds her next words. "I don't think you have magic, but it might help."

"So I just close my eyes?" The lack of skepticism in her voice surprises even herself.

Adaar nods. "Yeah. You just close your eyes."

And she does. It doesn't do anything, at first. Her hair still wisps around her, tickling her cheeks like soft tendrils. The wind still blows in random directions, cooling her back and making her shiver lightly when Adaar's lips move next to her ear.

"Let it go."

Her eyes are closed but the wind blows harder and her hair flies around her face like she's underwater, drowning and held down by an invisible weight. "I don't know how." Her voice cracks as her fist tightens onto the back of Adaar's shirt like she's trying to hold on to her and everything she knows. She closes her eyes harder.

"Trust me, okay?" The qunari's voice doesn't waver one single bit. "You'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you."

It doesn't show immediately, but that does the trick. The solid chest under Sera's palm and the strong chin on her shoulder slowly goes through the rapid fire of questions in her head, and the tightness in her chest slowly recedes to a tolerable comfort that lets her breathe. Just like that, everything goes quiet. Her hair falls back down like the invisible strings that lifted them up were snipped.

"There." Adaar sounds like she's been waiting to say it, like she knew this is what would happen. "That's better."

"Do I have to do it all the time?" She doesn't want to. It's strange and foreign and everything she thought she'd never have to do.

And the Inquisitor knows it. "Only when it starts to act up. It takes some getting used to, but it'll get better." It takes her a while to say the next words. "It took a long time for me."

Sera knows the words aren't meant to discourage her. It's just a simple show of honesty that means more to her than anything.

* * *

Adaar waits and waits for anything to go wrong. She alternates from gripping her sword and her staff, her palms cold and sweating as she taps her foot and paces. "No, we didn't have a fight, Varric." Her answer is more fearful than the dwarf expected of her.

"Well, I thought I heard stuff get tossed around in there." Varric makes a valid point, the concern laced in his observation. "That usually means an epic fight is happening, if not an epic book-worthy sex session."

"It wasn't the latter, unfortunately." The usual humorous tinge is gone from her voice. "But it wasn't the first one either."

But before she can explain, the men she's been waiting for exit her tent. Solas looks more intrigued than worried, but Cole's expression is unreadable as always. Honestly, Adaar expected Sera to put up a hell of a fight when she suggested that the two take a look at her, but the fairly annoyed look on the archer's face is just that and nothing more.

No name calling, no sticking out her tongue, nothing.

"What did you find?" The qunari gets straight to the point.

"Your assumptions were correct." Solas tactfully nods. "Sera is not a mage."

"But?" There's always a but, and judging by Sera's silence, there definitely is a but.

"Mages take and control what they can because they walk the Fade in their dreams." Cole sounds hesitant, something quite unusual for him. "Sera is different. She's like a conduit," He notices the grim look on the city elf's face. "She feels and thinks and the Fade morphs and reacts to her."

Adaar's question is direct. "And how can we reverse it?"

Solas doesn't answer, and neither does Cole. Coinciding with Sera closing her fists in sheer frustration, the tent behind them seems to vibrate until the wooden beams of it's foundation snaps and comes crashing down in big heap.

"I don't know." Solas' answers with too much hesitation to sound reassuring at all.

Sera's reaction is immediate. "What?" She sounds like she can't believe what he's saying. He's Solas, he's supposed to know about things like this, but he doesn't.

It scares her more than anything, except how she isn't blaming Adaar for everything. This is supposed to be her fault, just like how she's supposed to know how to fix it and how to turn her back.

Nothing makes sense and it scares her like nothing else does, so she moves to do what she has always done her entire life: run. But she doesn't. She remembers the gaping hole in her qunari's stomach and the limp in her leg, and the archer knows she'll have to stitch it back together. Sera hasn't got the heart to look Adaar in the face again if it's going to happen again.

So she walks away without looking back, wondering why she's even considering all these variables. Back then, she would have never hesitated to sprint away and damn the consequences, but she can't now. She can't make her cry again.

As expected, a pair of footsteps follow her, never too far yet not coming too close as they walk the path back to Adaar's tent in complete silence. The pebbles on the ground shake as she passes, and even though she closes her eyes and takes deep breaths, she can't seem to calm herself down. The rattles of stone clattering against sand doesn't help and she picks up her pace, but not too fast in case Adaar can't keep up with her limping.

The Inquisitor is going to follow her anywhere, anyway, no matter how hurt she is. It's because she loves her. She said so. Sera doesn't doubt one bit that Adaar would have come running into the Fade with her if she could, because that's just how she is.

Sera keeps that in mind as she stands back inside their tent and hangs her head. "He's supposed to know."

Adaar doesn't have a proper response.

"How am I going to get back now?" Her voice begins to shake. "If even his creepy magic whatever can't turn me back, what's gonna do it?"

"We have Varric and Leliana calling all their friends for a solution." It's the best thing she can offer. "I'm sorry-"

"No." Sera cuts her off in the middle of her apology. "I know you're sorry and I'm completely fine with that. That's the fucking problem."

Adaar isn't sure she heard her right. "What?"

"That's the bloody friggin' problem." Sera repeats once again, turning around so quickly that her newly long hair whips with her. "I'm complete fine with it."

The qunari doesn't move as Sera scowls and makes a move to get closer to her. "I don't understand."

Sera jabs a finger to Adaar's chest, her lips tightening for a moment like she doesn't know what to say. "I'm supposed to scream at you and shitting cry about you firing your thingy in me!"

Adaar swallows, but she doesn't take a step back. "I know it's my fault, Sera. I'm doing everything I can to fix this-" She moves her hands to hold the elf's shoulders, but it surprises her when her hands are stopped halfway.

The objects around her begin to rattle and fall over once again as Sera closes her fingers over Adaar's wrists, holding tight even when they're too small to form a nice circle around. "You know what I do, Buckles? When shit gets tough, I run. I run away and go piss off someone else, but not this time. I don't wanna run, and that's freaking me the fuck out!"

Adaar's eyes widen and she gets interrupted again before she can say a word.

"I love it when you look all thoughtful when you sit on the spiky eyeball chair, even when I say that thing looks creepy. I love it when you do that smirk of yours and you've got no idea what I feel when you're being all protective." Sera's words contrast with the increasingly louder voice of hers and the eyes that begin to blink away the tears that begin to moisten the edges of her eyes. "Balls, I love how you always kiss my forehead in the morning and I love it when you lift me up and carry me to bed at night. Love your green eyes, love the little chips in your horns, love every scar on you." She gently lets go of the mage's wrists but she can't bring herself to look at her questioning eyes. Instead, she does what she always does when she's tired, and she does feel especially tired right now. She lets her forehead rest on a strong chest, feeling every heartbeat and every sway of breath. "You weren't as clean cut as I thought. You did some serious shit and that wasn't fucking okay, but I still... I still..." She trails off. "Don't know why, but I still love that." She finishes, her voice much softer than before.

"Sera," Adaar doesn't know how to put it, but she strokes the inked cheek with her calloused thumb. She almost doesn't notice how the tattoos pale into a color of almost white instead of it's previous gold, like how a sword cools into steel after it's coated in flame. "You just said a lot of 'love'."

"Well, look at you." Sera seems the least bit annoyed, but the sheer resistance in her face overshadows every hint of irritation. "Yeah, thanks for telling me what I really feel. As if that's gonna help anything. First, we've got Coryphytit jizzing on our faces and now I've got a fuckin' Rift inside of me. Great, love's gonna save me from everything." She scoffs lightly. Lady Emmald used to tell her she loved her, every single day. "As if."

"Sera, do you know what happened after you got sucked into the Rift?" Sera doesn't understand how Adaar can seem like she has a perfect explanation for it.

She'll humor her, though. "What?"

"You know what the stitches on my head are from." It was when she rushed to the Archdemon and it knocked her to the side, nearly knocking her out cold or even cracking her skull open. "This hole on my side was from the dragon's teeth. It almost gutted me open. My fractured leg is just fractured because Solas, Vivienne and Dorian were there to help heal me. It was broken when I fell thirty feet from the air after I jammed a sword into it's eye."

And of course, it was all for her.

"I fought an Archdemon for you, Sera." Adaar leans down so much that she touches her forehead to Sera's, her side aching with the movement.

"Because you love me." Sera automatically says. Of course.

"And it's because I love you that everything had better watch out." Her voice is firm, like it always is when she's the Inquisitor. She's not the woman who sits on the judgment throne now, though, she's just her lover and every word she says rings with truth. "I don't care who or what, Corypheus and the Red Templars or even the Fade, I'm not going to let anything ruin us. I love you too much to not fight for every single day I can spend with you, Sera."

It must be love, right? It can't be anything else. "But that's you, that's what you do. You fight. I don't fight, Buckles, I run." That's what thieves and criminals do.

"No. You fought for me." Adaar denies, surely. "I remember when I was on my knees, I was about to have my tongue cut out and have my horns sawn off. I saw you as clear as day. You saved me. I've been looking for you ever since I first saw you, Sera."

"You'd better give me a bloody explanation." Sera pauses. "And me too."

"Why not now?"

Sera tugs at Adaar's collar. "Don't feel like talkin'."


	34. Out Of the Dark, Into the Light

Sera carefully climbs onto Adaar's lap, mindful of the freshly stitched wound by her side, hands over all the skin she can reach on the qunari's toned shoulders. Their breaths intermingle between the barely existing space between them when the qunari pulls away after the few seconds of silence.

"Wait a minute," She looks more than a little bit confused. "You want to fuck now?"

"Or we could talk." Sera says. She remembers how much she preferred fucking over talking, but she's got to admit that the latter is definitely something they'll have to do sooner or later. She needs something familiar, though, something to take it off her mind.

The thing is that she isn't sure whether she wants to know what the hell is going on or not.

Adaar is honestly quite surprised. "Just talk?"

"Nah, not just that. You know me, right?" Sera teases, stealing small kisses between her words. She pulls at the mage's bottom lip with hers and only lets go when she begins to speak again. Adaar's spine quivers. "Never just talking. But you talk. I wanna listen. And maybe talk too."

The Inquisitor isn't quite sure how that's going to work.

It's all clear now. "So that's why you've been sweet on me since the beginning, huh?" Sera always thought that the qunari might have fallen for her at first sight, but now she knows it wasn't the case. "It wasn't the beginning for you, yeah? Just... Kind of the beginning, but the middle too?"

"I've got no idea what's going on." Adaar laughs hopelessly and lets her arm hang by her sides. "I didn't back then, either. I saw you and Cole leave, then another you showed up with myself and told me not to tell you about it, among other things."

"Yeah, the cree-... The other you." Creepy isn't the word. Adaar won't ever be creepy. "What did I say, huh? I'm one smart piece of shit. You did good not tellin' me about it, 'cause I probably would have gone off running."

"And that would mean present you wouldn't-" Adaar's head suddenly feels heavy. "Shit, I'm confused. She just said to read the message in the arrow in Val Royeaux and to not tell you about what she said." Her usual smirk rises with intrigue. "I didn't know she said that so I could bring you to bed with me."

The topic of the other her brings a shiver down the archer's spine. She twirls her finger around a lock of Adaar's hair. "Wonder what's she's doin', where she is."

"Probably with the other me, having adventures in the Fade?" The Inquisitor knows it's definitely less flowery than that, but no one needs more gloom for the day. "Just the two of us."

The two of them, miserable and dead and doomed, but still together.

"Thanks." The word Sera utters is out of place and her voice catches when she says it.

Adaar's eyebrow rises. "For what?"

"For reading that message in Val Royeaux." Sera coughs, feeling her face warm up. "That place was a friggin' shithole, so... Uh, yeah. Thanks for getting me out of there."

Adaar knows her well enough to tell the subtle cues. The elf looks down when she's embarrassed, and when the qunari is lucky enough to see it, she blushes to the tips of her ears, just like now. "Love you too." The sight of Sera's face flaring up at the words is almost too much to handle, and it's only because she also knows Sera loves actions more than words that she pulls her down by the nape of her neck.

No more talking.

Sera explores the vast expanse of the mage's back with her hands like it's the first time and savors the taste of her lips like this is going to be her last. It takes Adaar by surprise, but she guides her hand to the clasp of her bra anyway. It slides off without trouble and the fabric is soon replaced by a pair of greedy palms that touch and touch and don't stop. Their clothes are peeled off one by one, each joining the growing pile on the ground. All hesitation is swept under and they're drunk on the taste, scent and touch of each other.

Everything is still the same and nothing hurts. Adaar's hands map the smooth lines of the marks left on Sera's smooth arms by the piece of the Fade that she shot into her lover, the intricate patterns fading into the tan skin of her chest like vines rooting themselves inside her. It doesn't matter, though. Sera smells like sweets and alcohol and hardwood, just like she always has, and she tastes like the finest wine the Inquisitor has ever tasted. She has the same scars, even though her eyes gleam with a striking hue that wasn't there before.

Adaar curls her fingers and the same spots make her tremble with pleasure and sigh in ecstasy. Every inch of her hasn't changed, the wiry muscles of her shoulders are strong as ever and the mage soon finds out that her tongue is as skilled as ever. Yes, her hair is definitely longer and not pulling it too hard as the Inquisitor's tense fingers thread through her hair is a true challenge, yet it feels as natural as ever.

Sera wipes away the sweat that's gathered on her forehead and cheeks, muttering an incoherent curse when she has to flick away the bits of hair that still clings to her face. Now she remembers once again why she opted for short hair. She's still breathing with more effort than usual from the strain of their favorite nightly activity. Her legs feel sore and the haze of pleasure still hasn't cleared up. Lying on Adaar's large frame seems like the best idea, at the moment.

"If it makes you feel better, I think you look absolutely fuckable." Adaar breathes, chest still heaving.

Sera almost cringes at the statement. "'Fuckable'? Fucking really?" Her words fall during that last word as she inhales a lungful of air.

"Give me a break, Sera, we just had sex." Adaar can't even muster the energy to come up with a witty retort. "My head's still not working right yet."

The thief would really like to kiss her right now, but that can wait until her muscles want to move. "Heh. Yeah, you're always such a doozy after a good fuck."

"How can you even think right now?" She's always impressed with how Sera can still talk after their more intense rounds.

"I'm not thinking, duh." Sera says it like it's completely obvious. "It's just true that you just don't _work_ anymore after sex like this. Well, not unless you collapse like a log for a couple of hours, I guess. Or... nah, that's it. You just don't get up no more."

Adaar has to mull over her response for a while. "I think all the blood in my brain just left and went down to my vagina."

"You think?" Sera flicks the qunari's nose jokingly. "I've got to jump you in that dank room where you go to tell people to do stuff and just get you on that table, right? Looks big and strong. You'd fit up there."

The Inquisitor would tell her that she's thought of it more times than necessary, but she's positive that the elf would go bragging about it to all of Skyhold within a beat. Those meetings can be very, very tedious, but she doesn't need the cleaning staff to know about her kinks. "And then what?" She's definitely listening to the rogue, though.

"_And then what_?" Sera looks appalled. "You don't say that to a lady, 'kay? Good thing you didn't wink at me, I might've slingshot puked if you did."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Adaar pouts. "My head needs time to recharge." And then Sera does something the qunari doesn't expect: nothing. No salacious remark and no mischievous smirk. She stays silent, and it doesn't help that Adaar can't see her face. "Sera?" She asks, the tent suddenly seeming much too quiet to be comfortable for her.

"I know you're bluffin' your arse off, Buckles."

She knows and it makes the Inquisitor's chest tighten. "What?"

"Nobody's got any idea what the fuck's going on, right?" No one. "Not even the egghead, and he's supposed to know about all the creepy things in the Fade." She doesn't even bother waiting for a response. "Don't even pretend, all right? I know you wanna make me feel better 'cause you're being you, but I get it. You shot a shitting _Rift_ inside of me and no one's got any idea how to get it out."

There's nothing else she can say. "I'm sorry."

"Told you I'm not even mad." It still feels so strange for her to admit it, but that's how it is. "Don't kid yourself if you're gonna think you'll find some way to get this thing out of me."

"But-"

"Who did you ask about me?" Sera asks.

The list of names are quite clear in her head. "Leliana's old friend who fought in the Blight with her. Varric has a friend from the Dalish who may be able to help. Vivienne is scouring the tomes I found for her, Dorian is analyzing every ancient text he can get, and Solas and Cole are having a really long talk. I've dispatched orders for Leliana's people to find all the magical experts they can find and Josephine is pulling favors to get with some of the former First Enchanters."

"Shit," Sera seems impressed. "That's a lot of stuff to do. Don't tell me the soldiers are gonna have to do some legwork too because of this."

"Not yet." Adaar says, maybe a bit too grimly.

The Red Jenny doesn't seem too pleased either. "Wonder how I'm gonna do my stuff now. Everyone's got to hear about this, and I can't stay in the corner of some stuffy party and be rude anymore." She chuckles. The irony. "Unless I want those toady shits to come whining about you. To you. Whatever. All that stuff."

The words aren't lost on her. Josephine always did have to tighten up the security to prevent some foreign dignitary from suffering under a mysteriously appearing muddle of sauce on the stairs or a cherry pie flying at maximum velocity. Even then, Sera always did find a way to fuck with people in a manner that would not let them ever forget about it. It was all well when she stayed out of sight and no one knew it was her, but ever since the incident when she slingshotted rotten tomatoes from a roof, she's noticed the wear on Josephine's gait when she had to send out countless apologies to the visiting nobles.

Adaar never did pass up on the chance to mention that she was hers, and it never failed to get a colorful reaction. Sera would never admit it, but she still can't help but wonder why the hell the qunari was so proud of her. Of course she wants everyone to know, but Adaar argues against every visitor who deems her a nuisance and never fails to mention a funny incident with her, even when she knows the people she's granting an audience to won't approve.

Nothing's wrong with Adaar the mage doing it, of course, but there is something wrong with Adaar the Inquisitor jeopardizing negotiations over an argument about her choice of lovers.

"They need me." Adaar stubbornly declares. "They need the Inquisition. They'll have to deal with me swooning over you if they want whatever they're whining to me about."

Maybe it's a form of thanking her for saving her from a fate as an unfeeling slave.

Sera knows she won't be able to avoid the masses now. Word will travel about what happened, if it hasn't already, and the Inquisition's name will be on every tongue in Thedas and beyond. She can only wait for her to not be an invisible street rat anymore, but an object of intrigue and attention for everyone who knows about her.

A _magical_ object of intrigue and attention.

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. If her memory is correct, the ball in the Winter Palace is coming soon and they can't miss it.

* * *

**Sorry, writer's block. Tell me if I forgot to spellcheck.**


	35. Crack

**Holy shit, what is this chapter even. It's just some crack that's not even sexy.**

**Anyway, midterms are on the horizon so I gotta start hitting the books. I'm planning on doing a binge-update session in the near future which means you guys will get more chapters in a shorter amount of time. See ya! Tell me if I missed anything, like typos or grammar errors.**

* * *

They're so, so late for breakfast but no one gives a damn. The food will probably be lukewarm at best when they get down, but eating is the last thing on Adaar's brain.

She grasps the messy sheets between her fingers, the surface of her dark gray skin beading with sweat as the generously sized toy slides into her again. Her elbows and knees dig into the bed and they're sure to be raw once she's done being tardy. It's a good thing she only ever wears long sleeved clothes or else Dorian would have a lot more to talk about over his morning milk.

The shaft glides smoothly inside until it can't anymore, and a labored breath escapes Adaar's throat. Sera holds onto her hips for leverage as she pulls and repeats, drawing the same sound again. Even when she's unable to see the qunari's face, the Red Jenny is afraid that her pride might grow so big that her head will burst. Unwinding the Inquisitor after days of nothing but her issuing orders and standing still in war room shenanigans has become her favorite pasttime. Adaar buries her face in the pillow, back arching as she gasps at the thrust of Sera's hips. She spreads her legs further, seeking more as her pleasure begins to mount.

Then she stops and the length is no longer inside.

Adaar rocks backwards, displeased when she finds nothing. "What are you doing?" She asks, turning her head.

Sera can't say she isn't surprised at the annoyed scowl on the mage's face. Pompous dignitaries who talk in circles are usually the recipients of the intimidating look, but then again, Adaar doesn't look too intimidating when she's on her knees and her pants are around her ankles. "Nothin'." She innocently smirks. "Just giving the neighbors a break from listening to you all night, Buckles."

"They can get used to it." The loss of contact frustrates her enough to make her voice go an octave higher.

"I'm hungry." Sera suddenly says. "Let's get some food, huh?"

"What?" Adaar's eyes widen significantly when she feels the pressure of Sera's weight leave the bed. "What the _fuck_? Sera!"

Sera can barely conceal the mad laughter brewing in the pit of her stomach. "The fuck are you so pissed about?"

"I'm your boss, you finish what you started." Adaar's voice holds no command at all. It's a thinly veiled plea that the archer sees through quite easily.

Sera gives Adaar the privilege of simply watching her toned and tanned back for a second as she pretends to ponder her decision. "How about we just grab some cookies from the pantry?"

"_Sera_." Adaar frowns.

"Okay, okay." Sera proudly chuckles. Maybe one day she'll really go through with the teasing, the aching in her own loins is too strong to ignore. "Lie down, would you? Can't fuck you if you're just sittin' and gaping like a cod."

Cassandra wonders if she should even bother knocking. Varric insisted on accompanying her and she doesn't know if she can let him find his next amusement in her profuse blushing should the answer to the question she's going to ask the Inquisitor be a gasping "In a minute!" like last time.

"What are you waiting for?" Varric keeps his voice down as if a little birdie told him that whatever is going on inside that room isn't something he'd like to see. "Go on, Seeker, knock."

Cassandra is very, very tempted to start growling at the dwarf like some sort of mangy beast, but she doesn't think she can take the humiliation. She opts to shoot him a look sharper than any dagger as she raises her closed hand and prepares for the inevitable.

And then Adaar sighs with unrestrained pleasure as the length of the toy sinks deep into her and triggers her release. She utters words that are unintelligible to the two outside, but Varric doesn't miss the opportunity to drop a comment. "Shit, Buttercup knows her way in bed."

Adaar digs her fingers into Sera's shoulder blade although she tries to not do it, but it's useless. The bruises are going to show, but that isn't nearly enough to discourage the elf from going on and on and on. She fills her up completely and nips on the sensitive skin of her collarbone, trailing her lips over the small scars. Sweat trickles down Adaar's neck and her piercing green eyes are hazed with lust.

Cassandra's hand hangs in the air, just an inch away from the door. "Shut up, Varric." She grimaces in embarrassment when she hears another high note that's unmistakably the Inquisitor's. "Shut. up."

"But damn, Herah deserves a good fuck after all that shit that happened with the Wardens." He whistles. "I guess being the Inquisitor doesn't hurt her chances with the ladies."

"I told you to quiet down!"

And he does, unexpectedly, but that brings nothing but concern to Cassandra. She doesn't hear a certain mage cursing profusely anymore. The Seeker's stomach drops when she realizes what's going on, but it's too late to run away and blame her merchant companion.

The door opens slightly, just enough for Adaar to peek out and see who's standing outside. "C-Cassandra. Varric." She gives them a strained smile. "You're not having breakfast?"

Varric isn't normally the one who makes incredibly crass comments in conversations. He usually leaves that to Iron Bull and Sera, but not this morning. "No, not yet, but Buttercup's had quite the meal." He doesn't look away from Cassandra's eyes as he says it.

Adaar would correct him, but she can't. She clenches her fist as she feels Sera's fingernails lightly scrape the middle of her back, casually tracing the tense muscles as she glides effortlessly inside again. "Yeah..." She gulps. "Right." Her trademark wit has flown right out the window, absolutely gone.

"We just came to check on your injuries." Cassandra sneers at the direction of her favorite writer, although she will never admit that to him. She tears her eyes away and looks back at the qunari's one visible eye. She looks around to make sure no one is around, and then leans a bit closer. "You can't fight yet, should the need arise, am I right? Solas updated me."

"I'm gonna do all the fightin' today!" Sera exclaims from behind the Inquisitor, cackling madly for a reason that hasn't sunk into the Nevarran's head yet.

Adaar really does try her best to keep a straight face, even if that word really isn't suitable for her at all. "I can move around okay, but I reopen my wounds if I'm not careful." She explains.

"Why are you peeking out at us like a merchant in a sketchy store?" Cassandra absenmindedly observes.

Varric holds in his laughter well enough not to alert her, giving the qunari a very impressed look. "Still having fun in there, friend?" He doesn't expect her to give him a vaguely panicked look as she opens and closes her mouth, unable to come up with a proper response. And then it hits him—peeking out. Undressed. No smart remarks. "Holy shit." He seems more impressed than disturbed.

"What is it now?" Cassandra seems just about done with his interruptions.

Adaar slams the door shut before the dwarf can answer. "Sera, I can't—_fuck_." She curses, then presses her forehead to the hard painted surface of the door. "I can't believe you actually—never mind, I can."

"How are you even talking?" Sera makes sure to hit a nice spot that elicits a muffled groan from the taller woman.

"When I told you to finish what you started-"

"Doing it now." Sera says in a sing-songy voice, rocking her hips in tandem for emphasis.

"-I didn't mean to surprise fuck me while I was opening the door." The end of the sentence is said in a breathless gasp.

"We can still hear you, you know!" Varric's voice rings out from outside.

"Varric, go away!" Adaar replies in frustration. She gives Sera one look of utter exasperation as she whispers her next words. "I'm coming. Don't you dare-"

"She says she's coming!" Sera exclaims to their two companions outside the door, although she isn't really sure if they're still there.

Sera hears an exhausted "Oh, Maker..." from beyond the door.

"Now I'm sure I'll write a book about this." Varric tells them. "The Secret Life of the Inquisitor?"

"I fucking hate you." Adaar grumbles.

"She's a bottom, write that down!" Sera yells.

To that, Adaar has nothing to say and resigns herself to her fate.

* * *

"Well, they're certainly taking a while." Josephine tactfully observes. She's used to fancy hotels and it's equally lavish food, but she's well aware that most of the others aren't. Dorian and Vivienne are, sure, but not everyone else.

It's a Val Royeaux breakfast, too. A large and intricate chandelier hangs over them and the smell of pastries and whatever course they're going to have hangs thickly in the air. The tablecloth is white, but it won't be for long when Sera, known as Skyhold's own destroyer of dining room arrives.

She's not there, though, and neither is the Inquisitor. Varric and Cassandra are also running mysteriously late.

"Whatever is going on has got a fair amount of hilarity, I assure you." Dorian crosses his legs elegantly.

Vivienne really thinks the opposite. "If by 'hilarity', you mean stupidity, dear."

Iron Bull laughs deeply, stroking his chin as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "You mean a lot of sex."

Cullen isn't normally someone who'd like to meddle too much in these talks, but he can't help but point out something that strikes him as quite odd. "But what about Varric and Cassandra?"

His answer will be made clear soon enough. The door opens right after he's done speaking his question and the four walk through like nothing is wrong, or at least that's what it looks like to everyone who hasn't known them for more than a week.

Adaar's brows are more intense than usual and she isn't looking at anyone in the eye. "Sorry we're late." She mutters meekly, making her way over to her seat.

Cassandra follows her example, sitting down quietly without uttering a single word. Varric has that little smirk on his lips as always, but it's nothing compared to the one on Seras'. The elf reaches for a small tart in the middle of the table and pops the entire thing into her mouth without any hesitation.

Adaar pours herself a drink and brings the cup to her lips-

"What took you so long, lass?" Blackwall asks the archer, wiping a few droplets of his drink away from his thick beard.

-and she chokes on it.

The whole table can only stare and listen as the Inquisitor sputters and politely spares them from a full frontal view by covering up with the conveniently placed napkin that the staff generously provided for them.

"Hilarity, like I said." Dorian shrugs.

"Let's talk about the plan for tomorrow." Adaar changes the subject, fooling absolutely no one. "A quick review, if you will, of each of our roles. It's essential that we stick to them throughout the ball."

"Right." Sera rests her elbows on the chair with her fingers interlocked together in an admittedly good imitation of Adaar during her judgment moments. "First, we sneak into the library and I bring lots of lice. Then while you're off being important or some shite, I'll pull you in some broom closet to make sure none of it rains on your head. Then I'll fuck you through your knickers-"

That part makes Adaar's face flare up like a torch, and the dead giveaway tips off Dorian immediately. "Oh, my." The Tevinter mage doesn't miss how the Inquisitor's tongue suddenly goes stiff. "Scandalous."

"You shouldn't have hurried here, boss." Iron Bull nods approvingly. "I would have saved you some food, you know that."

"I wasn't hurrying, Bull. That's why I'm extraordinarily late to breakfast." Adaar calmly addresses him, although the tinge of red is still on her cheeks.

"Yeah, she was busy getting on her knees." Sera shoots him a wink as she shoves a piece of pie in her mouth. "Railed her for a solid half an hour." She says, her words less than clear as crumbs fall on her lap.

Bull laughs that booming laugh of his, until he sees that Adaar and Cassandra aren't laughing. Then it's clear to him. "Holy shit, you're not joking."

"Knees raw, scratching the bedsheets with all you have. You didn't think you'd like it that much, but you want more, need more, crave more-"

"Cole!"


	36. A Surprise Visit

"How do I look?"

Sera always knew she had a thing for formalwear, but she can admit that she has rarely ogled a woman this hard. She really appreciates watching Cassandra pretend to try and murder the Inquisitor in Skyhold's courtyard with all that sweat and gleaming moisture, but this is definitely a nice change.

"Fuck." It's not often that Sera is left speechless, but this is one of those moments. She should have Josephine arrange for all of Adaar's clothes to be tailored.

"You like it, I assume?" Adaar is having the same idea. She'll place the orders as soon as they get back.

"Yeah, yeah." As much as she does like it, Sera has more pressing concerns to voice. Maybe not many have noticed, but she certainly saw the lag in the qunari's movements. "Is your side fine?"

"Yeah."

Sera isn't convinced. She crosses her arms, not moving.

"Okay, okay." Adaar surrenders without even a hint of putting up a fight. She's not in any shape to do it, anyway. It's not an easy thing to admit. "I... This night had better not have a massive epic battle break out in the middle of the ballroom." She frowns. "We've had too many epic battles for the weekend, don't you think?"

Sera's too used to how things usually turn out to hope that things will be resolved properly tonight. Deciding whether an army of demons will plague Ferelden or not isn't an issue Corypheus will be content to sit down and negotiate with. "If shit gets real, stay out, I mean it." She's been counting her arrows and her fingers have been twitching for the last hour. She'll be ready. "Please."

She wishes she could, but everyone knows it's not possible. "You know I can't promise that, Sera."

The elf knows it too. "Fine, but stay back. Work some barriers or whatever. We're all here, we'll handle it." She can't stress her point enough. "_I'll_ handle it, you got that?"

"Yes, boss." Adaar chuckles, feeling the stitches pull with every huff of air. It's a very real possibility that they'll reopen if she so much as gets knocked down with enough force. The sword at her side will have to remain a decoration for tonight.

She hopes so, at least.

"You better mean it." Sera puts on her best strict face. It's surprisingly good, considering how rarely she ever uses the expression. "I'm not hauling you back to bed tonight. You're gonna be fine and gorgeous and not covered in blood."

"Only if you are too."

Sera tugs on Adaar's collar as she rises to the tips of her toes. "I'm always careful. That's how my arse is still in one piece after everything. You're the one who needs to put on another plate of iron on you." However, when Adaar bends down to meet her lips, she begins to have second thought. "Or maybe you need to cut down on the heavy stuff so you can run circles around 'em." She whipers in between the smooth caresses of her lips, but that doesn't seem right either. "But the heavy stuff's real sexy."

"Well, I told Josephine I wanted to wear it tonight, but she said no." Adaar rolls her eyes. "She said it would make me look unfriendly."

"You won't need it." Sera confidently offers. "I'll make sure of it."

"That reminds me," Adaar remembers. "Did Solas' solution work?"

"What, putting that glowy green thing in the box so he can give it to the Empress?" She never was fond of the elven artifacts they often found during their travels. Granted, it wasn't very often, but it was much too often for her.

"Yeah. It's a good idea if it can keep random objects from floating around when you're around. The Empress is also a big fan of elven artifacts. It will win her over to our side."

"Oh, save the Inquisitoring for later." Sera crosses her arms and cheekily looks down at the outfit she was forced to wear. Josephine was perfectly aware that they might run into a few undesirable confrontations tonight, and so she requested that the tailor refrain from designing the usual elaborate ballgowns that this kind of event usually calls for.

Hey, at least she looks good in burgundy and her outfit doesn't require heels. Heels aren't good for fighting, and one sick pebble in her head won't stop insisting that she'll need to do quite a bit of that tonight.

It's time, and the sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach is only falling even further. The moment the cart pulls to a stop, she knows she has to put a lid on her mouth and walk like how Leliana taught her too, look no one in the eye unless it's necessary, smile like nothing is wrong with the world and stay on Adaar's arm at all times. Most importantly, let the Inquisitor do all the talking.

The door opens and suddenly her chest feels tighter than the corset around her waist. With a reassuring squeeze of her arm and a nod, Adaar leads her outside.

It's like leaving an old life behind, for a moment. It feels so wrong and so different, but she can't back down. Not now. Sera feels like the caricature of herself that many often speak of. She hangs off the Inquisitor's arm like a pretty accessory in her meticulously made clothes, which are obviously more feminine than the sharp garb Adaar dons, because that's all she's doing tonight—looking nice.

Everyone knows about what happened in Adamant Fortress and she's as much in the spotlight as Adaar is. She can afford to fuck up, she always has, but the Inquisitor can't. She never thought her incessant bragging about them would backfire like this. Then again, she hears that the mage can't stop talking about her, so perhaps the fault is equally shared.

She smells freshly watered flowers and expensive perfume and her vision consists of an array of colors, from the brightest lilac purple to the most striking gold and everything else she can imagine. It's nothing like the dull and dirty shades she's used to see, but the whispers are the worst. They're so many that she can't hear one individual sentence, but it's not like she doesn't know what they're thinking.

According to Leliana and Josephine's sources, they thought she was the first ever successful attempt of turning a common elf into a mage. Official Inquisition statements have been released, but all it's done is deny that but confirm that she is a walking Fade Rift and no one knows what might happen to her.

That's exactly why Empress Celene wants to see her. Josephine had a brief talk about how the Empress seemed hesitant at first, but was glad to request their company after Solas' gift. She thinks the mysterious magical counsel that's rumored to reside in the palace knows much, if she's able to give the most important political figure in Orlais a go after inspecting the artifact sent to them.

Adaar drapes her arm loosely around her waist, uttering a simple question. "Fantastic night for a ball, don't you think?"

They even rehearsed it, for shit's sake. "Certainly." The word tastes like bile in her mouth.

The mage says nothing, but she smiles although her eyes don't seem to follow. They connect with the elf's, as if promising to make this as short as it needs to be. She hears Dorian and Bull conversing shortly behind them, natural as ever. The qunari warrior is obviously not his usual casual self, but no one who hasn't personally spoken to him would be able to tell. It's very fitting of a spy. Blackwall is too quiet, but he doesn't have to be in the center of everyone's sights tonight, not like her.

"Inquisitor Adaar!"

Here it comes, the first of the many curious nobles who will ask them about Inquisition business tonight. They're a pair that consists of two very colorfully dressed aristocrats, puffy sleeves and polished smiles and all. Sera doesn't even bother trying to pick out any details. It's not like there's a shortage of them tonight.

"Sir, madame." Adaar politely nods. "Nice evening for a ball, isn't it?" She smiles as if balls are just another walk in the park for her.

"Oh, definitely. I hear that the queen will be serving her best spirits tonight." The man gives them a suble grin that seems to have been practiced a thousand times.

These people really have no idea what's going on tonight.

Adaar responds without missing a beat. "Ah, yes. I think I saw a servant carrying bottles of-" And this is the exact moment Sera loses interest. She doesn't like this Adaar, even though it's not the first time she's seen the qunari go into what she calls "Inquisitor mode".

She turns her attention elsewhere, scanning through the crowds for anything she has to know. It's hard to spot suspicious faces where everyone looks like they're hiding families of skeletons under their basements.

"-isn't it?"

Sera leaves the question hanging before she realizes that Adaar is looking at her in expectation. _Crap_, the thinks.

"For one, I do think you look stunning in your dress." Adaar gives her a hint, although it really is true that she finds it hard not to stare.

_Blush, look down. Look coy, like a nice little fuck toy._ "Thank you." _Say something about it._ "I'll definitely requisition several more outfits from this tailor." A sigh of relief. She didn't mess up yet.

"You are the Inquisitor's lady, are you not?" The man inquires casually.

"I am." She scours her head for anything to say that won't land Adaar in hot water. A second passes and she's starting to feel her chest race. "It's a real pleasure."

The small twinkle in Adaar's eye tells her that she's just dying to make a dirty joke out of that. "I enjoy your company greatly as well."

That sounded so very wrong, not Adaar at all. It's too much to hope for these two to stop asking them questions that will inevitably lead to Sera having to talk and probably add to the list of apologies and explanations poor Josephine will have to write after the ball is over.

Or not.

Two marching soldiers with cold helmets approach them, drawing the stares of many. The thumps of their boots are solid on the ground and they halt at the exact same time in front of them. "Inquisitor Adaar. The ambassador has requested the presence of you and your lady."

The stare both women exchange with each other speaks volumes about their confusion, but there's no room to show that. Not here. "Very well." Adaar nods. "Take us to her."

Without a word, they walk. The guards take position around them like bodyguards with too much affinity for fancy armor. The two Inquisition members don't break eye contact. They're having the same thought: _What's going on? _Leliana ran this through with them, at no point did she mention them being called over by guards.

Sera feels Adaar's arm tense under her fingers. She gives her bicep a light squeeze. She tries to ignore the stares she feels at the back of her neck like nocked arrows waiting to be released. She begins to feel her palms sweat when the guards open the gates because everyone is still outside, no guests have entered the palace yet, but there they are.

"Right this way." A guard says, leading them through a flight of marble stairs.

The sparkling chandelier and the intricate paintings go unnoticed like the gleaming floors and the gilded pillars, because once they've reached their destination, everything seems a bit more clear.

The Ambassador is in a green dress that fits the rusty red of her hair. She is shorter than Adaar thought she would be, and then she sees the pointed ears. She's an elf, and even through the mask, she is looking at them with a stare that's excited, almost happy.

"I'm glad you received my invitation."

* * *

**Do I have to apologize because college is swamping me?**


	37. Beware The Witch

Briala circles them, eyes trained on Adaar as she makes sure to keep a safe distance away. Her analytical eyes notice every small nick and groove on the qunari's horns, all the indents of the scars on her face and the ever growing tension in her muscles.

"Good posture." The ambassador begins, observing the mage not unlike how a savvy art critic reviews a newly made sculpture. "There's some wear and tear, but you're not broken." She stops abruptly, as if reconsidering her words. Then she nods and begins walking again. "No. You were, but not anymore."

Adaar stiffens.

"Intelligent. Charismatic. Humorous, yet you take charge in negotiations. Compassionate, but by no means incompetent or foolish." Briala's footsteps echo in the empty room, the only sound they can hear. She stops and points her eyes straight into the qunari's, searching and evaluating. "And you are extremely dangerous, not only on the battlefield, but also on the Inquisition's throne. That is what I hear from every corner of Ferelden and Orlais."

"The rumors are true." Adaar's voice doesn't waver. Her foot inches forward the slightest bit, putting her shoulder between Sera and the other elf.

Briala notices this and gives them a curious smile. "Protective, too. I've heard about how you bow to your lady like a faithful servant."

Sera has a scathing remark ready at the tip of her tongue, but she bites down on it enough to hurt. Just this one night, she has to keep her mouth closed.

Now this, Briala doesn't expect, but her mask of composure doesn't break. "In any case, I'm glad you received my invitation."

"Thank you very much." Adaar says, brushing aside the instinct to clench her fists in paranoia. "Although we would have gotten to it sooner or later, Ambassador. Dead bodies, attacks, and the such were not necessary."

Of course, the elephant in the room has yet to be discussed. "I had intended it to be a warning, Inquisitor, so that you would know that taking away Val Royeaux's Red Jenny- _the_ Red Jenny, was not to be tolerated."

A weight begins to settle in Sera's chest._ How did she know?_

"At least, I thought you had taken her." Briala still refuses to look the other elf in the eye. "And then I heard the rumors. The Inquisitor has taken a mischievous elven archer as a comrade in battle, and if the idle chatter is correct, as something much more... intimate."

This isn't right. It's too narrow, too direct for something coming out of an Orlesian ambassador's mouth. "Everything you heard is completely true."

"Is it?" Briala finally turns her attention to Sera herself.

There's no avoiding talking now. "Yeah." The city elf nods, hating how the usual brash confidence is nowhere to be found in her voice.

Now, that answer, she doesn't expect. The red haired elf almost seems stumped, but she recovers with the grace she earned from years by the empress' side. "That's a very strange decision for the Red Jenny to make." Upon seeing the increasingly perplexed look on Sera's face, she smiles almost sadly. "Don't be alarmed, or surprised, friend. It may have been years since we last met in person, but I hear many reports of you."

Sera doesn't speak. Adaar looks to her for an answer, but she receives none.

"It's me." Briala reaches for the mask that covers her face and slides if off smoothly. Her face is older and longer. The ever present sparkle of youth has left and her eyes have gotten darker with the unseen burdens on her shoulders, but it's her.

"Holy shit." Sera has lost count of how many times she's said that ever since she joined the Inquisition. Her jaw hangs open almost humorously. "Fuck. It's you." Her tone is more surprised than displeased.

Adaar's leans more to befuddlement. "Um, am I missing out on something?"

"Long story. Had a lot of friends back when I did jobs with other people." Sera tells her, but doesn't elaborate.

"We had differing opinions on how to carry out our agendas." Briala tactfully puts it. "And the corpse I sent to you all that time ago, it was not me who killed him."

"Then who?" Sera demands. "I'll fucking end that ball gur-"

"I disposed of them discreetly." Briala tells her, her words heavy. "I... did not want you to see him like that, but he often provided shelter to us when we were younger. I had hoped that you would know it was me sending a message. The traps were originally for the Inquisitor."

"Thank you very much for trying to kill me multiple times." Adaar sighs.

"I apologize. I thought a friend was being held against her will."

Then it all makes sense. "I've heard about you." Adaar realizes, putting the pieces together. "You've been trying to make things better for the elves in Orlais for several years." She knows that Sera doesn't fight fights that are specifically for elves, but she does know that the Red Jenny does assist everyone whose interests align with her own. It's not unreasonable to think that the two have crossed paths before. An ambassador and a thief with mutual goals are bound to have different ways of solving things. "I understand now."

It's not a full on smile, but the one Briala gives them is more than what she gives to the faceless men and women outside. "I was right about you being intelligent, Inquisitor. It is truly a surprise to see that Sera has taken a liking to a head of an organization, but she has always liked the tall and strong ones."

"Oh yeah, tall and strong, all right." Sera looks somewhat relieved that they're not being ambushed like she initially thought they were. "Nothin's better than beef on beef on beef. On beef. And horns on top of that."

Adaar doesn't take her eyes off the ambassador, but she can't help but smile at that. It's nice hearing the archer's usual banter again. She's been more quiet ever since the incident with the Fade rift. "You flatter me."

"We can talk later, after the ball." Briala suddenly interrupts, the honesty on her face hardening like marble. "You must hurry and return to the ball before the guests notice that you are gone. I am here to deliver a message that I insisted to deliver personally."

"That explains it." Adaar nods. "What is it that you have to tell me?"

"A woman will approach you later, Empress Celene's magical advisor. She is a very powerful mage who has knowledge beyond any other I have ever known. They are both very interested in hearing what happened with the Archdemon and..." She looks at the markings on Sera's skin. The ambassador isn't used to being speechless. "What happened to you, old friend."

Sera isn't used to it, either.

"How will I know that it's her?" Adaar questions.

Briala pauses for a moment. "She told me that you will most definitely know it is her."

"She is the cryptic sort, I see." Adaar wryly comments. "Very well then, thank you for the information. I honestly thought I would have to fight my way out of the room, but I'm glad that's not happening."

"Yes, yes." Briala rushes. "Now quick, go. The ball will begin soon."

* * *

"She's been watching me." Sera mutters under her breath. "That's why the guards never went on a bloody witch hunt for me like they did in Ferelden. She told them to back the fuck off and get back to mounting each other in the tool shed."

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" Adaar is pretty much used to odd things happening out of the blue, at this point. She's not even surprised anymore. "I mean, first we meet the infamous Bianca, and then-" Her eyes snap open.

"What? Why'd you make that weird face like you just left your knickers hanging around your ankle?"

"You and Briala..."

Sera scrunches up her nose and makes a face that's indescribably horrific. "What? Eugh, no! She's really not my type. Too bony and boring and just... noble-y."

Adaar releases a relieved breath, making sure to not trip over her feet as they walk down the stairs. "That's a relief."

"Ugh, this is so dull I'd rather watch paint dry than go out and smile like some willy again." She groans, heaving a tired sigh. "Wanna just fool around for a bit?"

"I would love to, but you have no idea what that little skirt... thing... is doing to me, and I'm afraid I'll end up causing a diplomatic incident that Josephine will never forgive me for." Adaar lowers her hand from it's usual place at the small of Sera's back and gives a small, gentle squeeze. "I can't wait for this to be over."

"Nothing like bein' on your knees, huh?" Sera teases, remembering the incident from this morning.

"I am going to open this door right now so you can't seduce me." Adaar grins, her hand hovering over the polished doorknob. Just one turn and they'll be outside again with the guests. "But I'm looking forward to later."

"That's Buckles-speak for 'I've got a massive boner right now'." Sera shrugs, with a satisfied smile. "Good for now, I guess. You'd better not go and do paperwork later."

"Trust me, paperwork is the last thing on my mind right now." And she turns the doorknob.

The moment they're out in public again, one single point of interest catches their eyes. A head of short red hair slowly approaches. Leliana elegantly weaves through the crowds with ease and haste, only stopping when she's close enough to talk without alerting everyone else within earshot. "Where have the two of you been?"

"The ambassador wanted to see us. She had a message." Adaar quickly relays. "The Empress' magical advisor will see us soon. Do you have any idea who she is?"

Leliana nods, a cryptic look on her face. "As a matter of fact, I just ran into her."

"What?" Adaar frowns.

"We don't have much time." The spymaster cuts straight to the face. "You will not miss her, Herah. She is a dangerous and cunning woman and someone like you will know the type. Everyone here is a snake, but she is a dragon."

"How did you figure this out so fast? I thought you said you didn't have enough information on her, back when we were discussing our plans."

Leliana knows she has no time to stall, and so she doesn't. "I warn you because I know her. I have fought with her and I have seen her wield magic I've never seen anyone else perform. She wields the primal forces with frightening might."

"An apostate. Like me."

"Why are we trying to get her help again?" Sera whispers harshly, genuinely confused. "I'd stay the fuck away from this whoever-it-is, she sounds like a real witch."

"She is, Sera." Leliana says it with an equal amount of reverence and caution. "But she is the best witch you will ever meet."

"How powerful is she?" Adaar begins to feel concern bubbling in the back of her head.

Leliana doesn't say it out loud, but she wills them to listen to her next words very carefully. "She is the only reason the Warden-Queen is alive, and her name is Morrigan."

* * *

This chapter was already written but then my asshole old laptop broke. I'm writing this on my new one, so cheers. I know it's short, the next one will be longer!


	38. Chapter 38

Good or bad news, depends on how you wanna look at it.

Hey folks, I've got some news. I decided to rewrite everything but before anyone kills me, I'm gonna say that I'm going to update a LOT more often from now on, maybe like twice a week or something so we'll progress really fast. I initially didn't plan for this story to have an actual plot and so the whole story seemed really random and disconnected and just wtf.

I wanna make it a LOT better in terms of how it flows from chapter to chapter and with character interactions, which is why the first chapter is out now, just click on my profile :).


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